


Families Are Forged, Not Made

by Viking_Mansongur



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Hiccstrid are age 16, High School AU, Hurt/Comfort, Modern AU, Parental Child Abuse, Parental emotional abuse, Sasscup, Sasstrid, Teen Pregnancy, mild violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-07
Updated: 2018-11-27
Packaged: 2019-03-01 15:22:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 27
Words: 121,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13297692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Viking_Mansongur/pseuds/Viking_Mansongur
Summary: Families are more than just blood and seed.  They’re also the bonds of shared lives, tied heartstrings and the cruel whims of fate.  Families are those people that, when you show up at the door, they take you in.  Family can wound like no one else, and heal like no one else.Family is those people with whom, for better or worse, one can point to and say, “I am one of them.”Family, for Astrid Hofferson, is the boyfriend who helps her—not the father who drove her away.





	1. Prologue: I'm Waking Up To Ash And Dust

**Prologue**

It was raining.  Of course it was raining.  As if things couldn’t get worse. 

Well, actually, they could. 

Her parents could find her and drag her back home. 

And at least the cold and the rain made the stinging welt on her cheek ache less as she walked down the nighttime streets. 

Her pocket buzzed and she pulled out her phone— _her_ phone, not the one that her parents had bought her, the one that had the tracking software built into it, the one that traitorously told her parents where she was and who she was talking with.  _That_ phone was back in her bedroom, between the locked door that had been shut behind her and the opened window that she had shimmed out of.

The cheap smartphone that she was pulling out of her pocket had been bought with her own money from a mall kiosk, and kept hidden.  The number and contact information shared with only a few people.

Heather’s name flashed on the screen, and she checked the message.

_Astrid, where are you?  Your dad is here, and he’s looking for you, and he looks angry as fuck!_

She groaned, even though she’d anticipated this.  Which was why she hadn’t gone to Heather’s house.

The phone buzzed again.

_Astrid?!  Please tell me you aren’t dead.  Your dad says that you ran away._

She snorted.  It was true, technically. 

But didn’t prisoners always try to escape from prison before they were consigned to solitary? 

She carefully typed in a reply. 

_I’m okay.  But I’m not going back there.  I’m going someplace safe._

She continued walking, and then the phone rang.  Heather’s number came up. 

With a sinking feeling in her gut, she answered it—and her father’s voice came over the phone.  “Young lady, you come home right this instant, or there will be hell to pay.”

Biting her lip and hearing another man’s voice in her head, she channeled that one instead of the more subservient one that her father had expected.  “I’m sorry, but I cannot accept that charge.  This phone isn’t set up to take collect calls.”  She hung up.  Then she started to hyperventilate, and a wave of nausea wracked her body.

 _Oh, not now, not now!_ was her thought as she fell to her knees and heaved, but she managed to keep her last meal—a couple of granola bars she had stashed in her bedroom—down. 

She’d been getting way too much practice at that over the last week or so.

The phone rang again, and it was Heather’s phone.  But there was no way that it was Heather, so she rejected the call. 

She did that repeatedly over the next few minutes, as it rang repeatedly. 

Then it buzzed with an incoming IM.

_Astrid, I’m sorry, they saw me typing on my phone and grabbed it.  I’m on my laptop.  Are you okay?_

She weighed the options.  There was no way that her father wasn’t hovering nearby, looking for any clue as to where she was so that he could find her and drag her back home.  But at the same time, Heather was one of her best friends, and who had given her sanctuary in the past.  She deserved to know that Astrid was okay.

 _I’m going to Gary’s house,_ she typed back, and gave a small smirk.  That should throw her father off the scent long enough for her to get to safety, and Heather would understand.

And she did. 

_Gary's?  Wait, Astrid, you’re going to the Jorgensons?  Snot always paws you up._

She could visualize the scene; Heather in her house, probably at the dining room table where they’d done homework so many times, hunched over her laptop, their fathers hovering in the background. 

 _It’s his fault, ultimately,_ she typed, and she kept walking, unable to feel her toes from the cold, her slippers soaked through, her skin feeling clammy despite the multiple layers of clothes she’d put on, and her backpack feeling like it weighed several tons.  She was nearly there.  She just had to keep walking.

Then the phone buzzed again.  _Yes, it is._

She pushed the phone back into her pocket and quietly exulted to the dripping sky about having good friends. 

She had bought herself at least an hour—hopefully—between the time it would take her father to get to the Jorgensons, find out that she wasn’t there, make false accusations at Snotlout, and backtrack her ‘route’. 

And she would need the time, because this was her last option to free herself. 

Finally, she turned onto the last street. Her destination in sight, she took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn’t about to make a big mistake. 

Well, _bigger_ mistake. 

She knew that he was willing to help, but his dad…

She got to the plain and extremely neat house, and heard a dog start to bark.  Hugging her arms around herself and feeling the squelch of her soaked hoodie under her fingertips, she walked up the neatly manicured path to the door and knocked. 

It opened nearly instantly. 

“Hi Hiccup,” Astrid said tiredly to her secret boyfriend, the one that her parents didn’t know about, the unassuming nerd that they let tutor her, not seeing his weediness as a threat to their perfect daughter.

“Astrid!” he said, clearly surprised to see her, despite the fact that she’d messaged him a little while after she’d climbed out of her bedroom window and asked if she could shelter with him.  Despite the fact that he’d clearly been waiting by the door, given how quickly it had opened.  He looked her up and down and stepped back from the door.  “Gods, you’re soaked.  In, in!”

She smiled tiredly at him and stepped into the warm house, a small but naughty part of her mind reflecting on the difference in his voice between him saying that she was soaked… and saying that she was wet. 

As Hiccup shut the door behind her and locked it, she finally, for the first time in hours, stopped moving.  It was wonderful, and for a brief moment, as Hiccup stared awkwardly at her, she just paused, luxuriating in the warm air and the feeling of safety. 

Her father would never think to look for her here. 

Then a massive shiver shook her whole body, and Hiccup was there, hugging her.  “Gods, why don’t you have a coat on?  Your clothes are drenched!” he exclaimed.  Small puddles were forming on the tiles around her slippers, and Hiccup stepped back and looked her over.  His demeanor changed from anxious to practical, and he said, “We need to get those off before you get hypothermia.  Strip.  I’ll get a laundry basket for them.”

The little naughty voice commented that of course he wanted to see her naked again, but she ignored it, aided by her exhaustion, and they busied themselves for a few minutes with getting her soaked layers of clothes off in some semblance of order and into the laundry basket.  As she peeled out of drenched shirt after drenched shirt, Hiccup left to get her his robe, and some towels, which she accepted gratefully. 

When it turned out that even her innermost layer of clothes had been soaked through by the October rain, all the way down to her skin, Hiccup wordlessly stripped off his shirt as she stood there, shivering, the towel not warm enough, and handed it to her.  She gratefully took the thick cotton shirt with a sarcastic comment written on it and pulled it on, rather than ostentatiously ogle his wiry body like she would have normally.  She luxuriated in the warm, dry, Hiccup-scented shirt against her chilly skin.  Then she pulled out a fresh—and dry—pair of panties from her backpack as he took up the soaked bundle of her clothes and went to toss them into the dryer. 

Watching his bare back leave the room, she pulled on the panties, shrugged on the thick cotton robe, and slumped into an armchair, exhausted.  But rather than let herself fall asleep, she looked around the room.  It was extremely neat and organized, with photos of Hiccup and his imposing father in his uniform, and a few of a woman that she guessed was Hiccup’s mother being the primary personal touches.  It was her first time here, which, she reflected, was pretty fucked up given how long she and Hiccup had been together.

A big black dog came over and started to sniff at her. 

“Toothless!  Down!” Hiccup said, coming back into the room as he pulled on a fresh shirt.  The dog laid down at the foot of the chair and gave them both tired looks.

Astrid didn’t blame him; it was around midnight, if not past it.  And she had other reasons to be tired.

Hiccup picked up a fresh towel from the pile and started drying her hair, undoing the tight braid and working out the water as he unbound her hair.  She luxuriated in his touch, like her old cat Stormfly getting petted, or being honest, like herself whenever he touched her, until Hiccup suddenly paused.  She whined and opened her eyes to see him looking at her face.  He looked her in the eye with a questioning expression, and she nodded.  He reached up and then held her gently, reverently, by the chin, examining the darkening handprint on her cheek.  “Who…”

“My father.  That’s why I’m here,” she said softly.  She could still feel the slap that had knocked her to the floor, and her scalp was sore from when her braid had been pulled. 

“Why?”

She wordlessly rummaged in her bag, pulled out the thin plastic stick and held it up for his inspection.

Hiccup took it, uncomprehending.  And then he looked at it more closely and she watched the blood drain from his face.

“Yeah,” she said even more softly.  “I’m pregnant.”


	2. Chapter 1: Welcome To The New Age

  **Chapter 1  
**

 

“I’m pregnant,” Astrid said, and Hiccup felt the room spin slightly and his whole body chilled. 

“Is it… gods, us?”

She nodded.  “I haven’t _been_ with anyone else, Hiccup.  Just you.”

He felt the chill deepen.  “Shit.  That one time…”

“Yeah.  That’ll teach us to use expired condoms,” she said tiredly.  “But, yes… it’s yours.  Ours.  And when my dad found me with a positive pregnancy test, he freaked.”  She indicated her cheek.  Hiccup hissed, and unconsciously took her hand.  “Shouted about how I was a slut and stuff like that, and locked me in my room.”

“So why come here?  Your dad, he’ll follow you…” he asked, his gut feeling like he was in freefall.  Gods… he… Astrid… pregnant… how…

“He doesn’t suspect that it’s you… that we’re… _us_ … together.  So I can be safe here, at least for a little bit.”  She looked him in the eyes, and she looked so tired and so vulnerable and so… so _unlike_ the Astrid that Hiccup had been secretly dating since the middle of S4, nearly a year ago now. 

The Astrid that he’d been secretly fucking since her birthday last May, and continuing all through their summertime ‘tutoring sessions’ and into the current school year of S5. 

He just looked over the pregnancy test in his hand, and saw the two lines. 

And it sank in.

His girlfriend was pregnant. 

He was the father.

And they were both still in Fifth Year, sixteen years old, getting ready for their Higher exams… the tutoring sessions for which had given them ample opportunity for time together. 

Astrid was looking at his expression, and there was a note of fear in her voice as she said, “Gods, Hiccup, this is my fault.  I promise I’ll go and you won’t get in trou—”

He swiftly bent down and kissed her, like he always kissed her—daring his body to make the choice between oxygen and Astrid, because if it was up to him, he’d pick Astrid every time.  He awkwardly wrapped his arms around her where she was half-sitting in the chair, and patted her on the back

She relaxed into it, and then started to return it with her usual passion, wrapping her arms around him. 

Before it could escalate to where such kisses usually did—with them boning each other until they could barely see straight—he broke the kiss and said softly, “You aren’t going anywhere.  You’re safe here.  We’ll figure this out together.  Promise.”

“But your dad…” she objected.

Hiccup shrugged.  “I’ve been a disappointment to him since I was born.  Now I can find whole new and exciting ways in which to disappoint him more!”  He ran his hands through his hair.  “He gets home from his latest case tomorrow, so we’ll deal with him then.”

Her phone buzzed from where she’d put it on the nearby coffee table.  As she went to pick it up, Hiccup gave her a questioning look and, when she nodded, looked over her shoulder at the screen. 

 _Are you safe?_ Heather Oswaldsson’s message read.  _Your dad tore out of here like his ass was on fire and the Jorgensons had the only bucket on Berk._

Astrid slumped in the chair and typed back, _Yes.  I won’t say where, so that way you can honestly say that you don’t know._

Hiccup held her hand as the trio of dots at the bottom of the screen indicated that Heather was typing.

_Bullshit, girl.  I know where you are._

Hiccup shared a glance with Astrid, and then she wrote back, _Erase that, Heather!  And you_ suspect _, but you don’t_ know _.  Got it?_

There was a long pause, and then two words showed up.

_Got it._

Astrid sighed; she looked relieved.  Hiccup, for his part, continued to look at the screen, realizing what her comment meant.  “She knows about us?”  He liked Heather well enough, but she wasn’t exactly one of his close friends that he’d trust for something like this.

Then again, he didn’t have _any_ friends that he’d trust with this. 

Except for Astrid, and that was rather a different thing at the moment. 

“Yeah, and I know about her and Justin.  We’re BFFs, Hiccup,” she said.  She typed in _I’m knackered and going to go to sleep soon.  I owe you so damn much.  We’ll talk tomorrow?_

Hiccup blinked.  “Her and Fishlegs?  Really?”

She snorted.  “Yeah, the form’s two biggest geeks landed two of the form’s most chased girls.  Drink in the irony, lover.”

The phone chirped and he paused.

_You’d do the same for me, Ast.  Glad that you’re someplace safe.  Get some rest, and take care of yourself.  We’ll talk tomorrow._

Astrid slumped and sighed, relaxing.  With a quick gesture, she muted the phone and turned off the screen and set it aside. 

He then reached for the towel again, and continued to dry her hair.  As he worked, he asked, “Should you have told me that?”

“Her parents aren’t nearly as strict as mine—and its her brother that’s making them keep quiet, as he doesn’t like Justin.  And they’re just dating, not…” she made a vague gesture at the two of them.  “Besides, I think that we have bigger secrets right now to worry about.” 

Before they could start that discussion, however, her stomach growled loudly.

“When did you last eat anything?” he asked, concerned.  Astrid, like himself, had a metabolism like a blast furnace, and they both struggled to gain weight.  And that was under normal circumstances.  Now that she was eating for two—

Hiccup blinked away from the thought.  It still wasn’t real to him.

Meanwhile, she cocked her head.  “I had some granola bars…”

He grimaced.  Great.  Candy bars with pretensions of nutrition.  “Real food?”

“Um… this morning, I had some eggs and bacon with toast,” she said, looking nauseated.  “But I threw it up… which made me get the test.  And then my father caught me.”

“Okay,” Hiccup said resolutely; he got to his feet from where he’d been crouching next to her chair, and pulled out his phone. 

“What are you doing?”

“Searching for what foods are safe for women with morning sickness,” he said, and then, with a wry smirk, he continued, “I’m not going to make my pregnant girlfriend something to eat at…” he glanced at the clock, “twelve-twenty-two at night if she’ll throw it up by one-thirty.” 

The autosuggest for his search bar was going to be really interesting in a few days, he was pretty sure, as he typed in his query and the results popped up.  He skimmed a few articles, noted commonalities of recommendations—enough, he felt, for a triangulation—and made for the kitchen, already plotting out what he was going to do in his head. 

Besides… he’d dreamed of doing this so many times.  Cooking for Astrid, for just the two of them?  It had been a long-standing fantasy.  Admittedly, he hadn’t imagined getting to do it under these circumstances, but she was here, she was hungry, and she needed him.

So he’d feed her and they’d figure things out from there.

 

#

 

As Hiccup puttered around in the kitchen, and an enticing aroma started to circulate through the house, the black dog—Toothless?—perked up and sniffed at her.  She held out her hand for him to rub his nose against.  He poked his wet nose at it before giving it a lick and settling down at her feet. 

“Looks like I pass inspection,” she said wryly. 

Hiccup’s head poked out of the kitchen, his glasses slightly steamed from whatever it was that he was cooking.  “Oh, that’s Toothless,” he said.  “I got him as a puppy who had lost all of his teeth.”

Astrid rolled her eyes.  Of course.

As Hiccup vanished again, she looked around the room again.  It was exquisitely neat, done in clean woods, greens, browns, and the occasional white.  A filled bookcase was against one wall next to a sideboard which was covered in the photos she’d noticed earlier.  Other than the photos and the well-worn books, though, the living room might as well have been ordered out of a catalog or showroom.  She shivered.  Her own house was like that too. 

Rather than stay, she hauled herself out of the chair, and went to the kitchen.  And did a double-take.

It too looked like it had come out of a catalog—one for high-end restaurants.  And all Hiccup needed was a white chef’s hat and chef’s jacket to complete the image, instead of the nerdy t-shirt (reading “Screw Your Lab Safety, I Want Superpowers”), equally nerdy pyjama bottoms (blue, with the Ravenclaw crest on it in plaid), nerdy slippers (a pair of zombie faces, with his feet going into their mouths) and horn-rimmed glasses that he was actually wearing.  He had at least three—no, make that four—different kitchen gadgets out that he was bouncing between as he energetically cooked for her. 

One of the gadgets was a rice cooker, already bubbling away, while another was some kind of covered pot with a complicated lid-and-latch on the stovetop, while the third was some kind of levered ram which he was using to cheerily cut vegetables into chips and cubes, and the fourth was some kind of electric wok, already filled with simmering onions.  A more mundane pot was also coming up to heat on the stove—which, she recognized, was a high-end induction cooktop, of the sort that her mother was coveting for their own catalog-ready kitchen. 

She watched as the diced carrots and celery were tossed into the wok, and Hiccup added a dab of olive oil to the pan—and then he looked up to see her no-doubt dumbfounded expression.  “What?  I like to cook,” he said as he started to offhandedly stir the vegetables.

“Hiccup… all this?  For me?”

He nodded, a cheesy grin on his face.  “I think I’m still a little in shock.  Okay.  Maybe a lot in shock.  But that’s okay.  I’m in my happy place.  There are bunnies.  And dragons.”

She gave a pained bark of laughter and walked over.  Catching him in a hug, she pushed her head into his shoulder.  “And now I am too.”

He gave her a slightly off-kilter smile and kissed the side of her head.  “Astrid… I… I’m sorry.”

She shook her head.  “Save it.  It took both of us.  I was angry at you this morning.  Now…”  She squeezed him tighter.  “Now at least we don’t have to hide anymore.  Ever again.”

He inhaled at that, and kissed her temple.  “I already felt like your dirty little secret before this.”  He reached out and gave the vegetables a quick stir before putting his arm back around her.  “But I already promised to help you however I could.”

She smiled softly and said, “And you kept that promise.”

“With homework…”

“And saying yes when I called out of the blue asking for help,” she said, and then a silly, sensual impulse crossed her mind and she molded herself against him sensually, “and scratching some itches…”

He blinked and gave a short laugh.  “Well, yes.  You couldn’t reach those yourself.”  He extended two fingers and wiggled them suggestively. 

She laughed, and he laughed, and they smiled at each other, remembering those enjoyable moments up in her bedroom back in her house, during the study sessions for the exams and homework over the last several months.  She looked up at the horn-rimmed glasses that he wore and the attractive green eyes behind them, and felt her pulse start to thrum.  “And then I had to help you with some… massage.”  She bounced against him unsubtly, and she felt him stir.

“Mmmh.  Yes,” he said with a reminiscing smile.  “We help each other out.”

Then her stomach rumbled and the mood shattered, as they both laughed. 

“Well, right now, milady, you have me for whatever you need.”  Her stomach rumbled _again_ , and he smirked.  “And right now, that seems to be ‘pregnant woman, care and feeding of.’”  He let her go and got back to the cooking.  She took a seat at the nearby breakfast bar and watched as he deftly assembled a giant meal over the next few minutes; the odd pot turned out to be a pressure-cooker with chicken stock and vegetables in it, the other pot had more chicken stock coming up to a boil, and he mixed it all together with ginger, lemon, the rice and vegetables to make a rice-soup bowl for her.

She downed the first bowl almost as soon as it was set in front of her, and then two more in rapid succession.  He got a small bowl for himself as she was working on her fourth, and watched her eat with a smile. 

“This is delicious.  You’re hired,” she joked as she spooned up a mound of crunchy vegetables and shoved them in.  It was amazing that she _could_ joke right now, but she felt… safe. 

He bowed over his bowl.  “Huzzah!  But can we discuss salary and benefits in the morning?  I’m exhausted.”

She glanced at the clock—a whimsical one that didn’t fit the rest of the kitchen, featuring tiny dragons as the numbers and hands—and saw that it was past one in the morning.    Slurping down the rest of her bowl, she stood and said, “Well… there’s one benefit you can have right now.  Or would that be an offer for a position?”

He eyed her quizzically, and then quirked an eyebrow.  “You’re not serious.”

She smiled crookedly.  “Well, we’ve always used _my_ bed, haven’t we?”  She felt herself sober, and then said, “But you don’t have to if you don’t want to.  But I’d like to be with my boyfriend… especially tonight.”

“And here I was planning on sleeping on the couch,” he said.  He reached over and took her hand.  “Come on.  I’ve been looking forward to actually snuggling with you forever.”

They squared away the food and the dishes and, her heart pounding and feeling both anxious from seeing his bedroom and relaxed from the feeling of safety and trust, they went upstairs. 

The house was smaller than hers, but well laid-out, and the upstairs landing had four doors.  Hiccup pointed.  “Bathroom.  Storage closet. Dad’s bedroom.  My room.”  He pushed open the last and Astrid found herself smiling.  She’d occasionally wondered what Hiccup’s bedroom would look like, but she never would have been able to come here without her snitch-phone ratting her out to her father—Hiccup had helped her with researching the capabilities of the damn thing, and it gave her father access to all texts, calls, internet history, and even her location, both live and history. 

So Hiccup’s bedroom had been a place of fantasized safety for her since last year—and more than a few other fantasies as well. 

But the reality of it lived up pretty well to how she had imagined it. 

Packed bookcases crowded three of the walls.  There was a corner desk by the window, with a desktop computer on one side and a drawing board and art supplies on the other, below the window.  It also seemed to pull duty as his nightstand, as there was a lamp on the end, next to his bed.  His single-size bed occupied a little wall space, sticking out into the middle of the room, with his wardrobe standing next to it. 

As she continued to look around, he went over to the desk and set his phone down on a wireless charging port on the nightstand part of the desk, next to the bed.  It chirped that it was charging, and he turned to the computer and started to rummage.  What she had first taken as posters in the lamplight turned out to be large sketches, which covered what wallspace wasn’t covered by bookcases—and she saw herself in some of them.

But it wasn’t her.  It was her as a Viking, riding a dragon.

She turned, surprised, and he shrugged as he scrounged up another USB cable.  “I wanted a picture of my girlfriend on my wall… but I needed to camouflage it.”  He plugged in the cable, took her phone from her unresisting hands, and set it to charge next to his.  “Making you into a badass dragon-riding shieldmaiden seemed to be the best option.”

She looked at herself on the wall, and melted inside.  “I love it.  Thank you.”

“Really?  I mean, I drew you without permission—”

She reached over, grabbed his shirt, pulled him into a kiss, and said, “You have my permission to draw me.  You have my retroactive permission to draw me.  Hel, you have my permission to draw me like this!”

She stepped back and yanked off the shirt—his shirt—and dropped it on the floor.

He blinked, and a wide grin grew on his face—and, to her own pleasure, that wasn’t the only thing that she saw grow.

She arced and said seductively, “Do you need me to pose for you?”

Hiccup smiled and stepped forward to pull her into his arms and give her a kiss.  “Not now.”  He ran his hands gently down her back, raising goosebumps in the wake of his fingertips.  She wrapped her arms around him and kissed back.  His shirt was in the way, but they’d have to break the kiss in order to get it off, so she compromised by lifting it up as much as she could, bunching it below their necks.  His hands danced over her skin, raising goosebumps on the outside and sending thrills of pure heat inside.  He seemed intent on driving her insane as he ghosted up and down the bones of her spine and shoulders, and she retaliated in kind, rubbing her hands over his back and pushing his pyjama trousers down. 

She felt him hard up against her belly and felt herself grow wet between it and his ministrations as they continued kissing.  He must have looked absurd, his pyjama trousers puddled around his feet and his shirt made into a collar around his neck, but all it felt was arousing, especially as he broke the kiss and she yanked the shirt the rest of the way off.

Then he was kissing his way down her cheek and to her jawline and neck, his tongue no longer tormenting her lips, but instead writing nonsense words on her skin, and she moaned, especially when he stopped to suck for a moment on the sensitive spot below her jaw before moving on. 

His fingers moved lower to cup her ass, making her buck and rub against him as her panties were inched down and dropped.  Not to be outdone, she reached down and started to stroke him with one hand, fondling his balls with the other, and he moaned against her collarbone. 

One of his talented hands reached around and started to stroke at her groin, just above the sensitive spot, while the other reached up and started to dance on her scalp. 

She hissed in pain and he froze.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, letting her go and stepping back—or at least tried to, as she stepped forward, not letting go of him.  “Astrid, did I hurt you?”

She shook her head.  “My father yanked on my braid earlier, and my head is still sore from it.  But if you leave me horny like this, I’m going to hurt you!”  She squeezed him for emphasis. 

He actually laughed at that, even as he looked at her with concern.  “Are you sure?”

“Hiccup, I’m tired, sore, and horny.  Help me out with at least one of those, would you?” She continued to stroke him with one hand as she spoke. 

He grinned and patted the bed.  “Tired?”  He reached over and started to massage her shoulders.  “Sore?”

She glared at him, which he met with an innocent look before they both burst out laughing.  Then she let him go and firmly pushed him back on the bed before going to her knees in front of him, and taking his cock in her mouth, practically engulfing it and starting to dance her tongue over the tip. 

He moaned softly and she enjoyed the sound as music to her ears… and then realized that their usual cover of ‘music for studying’ wasn’t playing in the background. 

There was a moment of panic that someone would hear.  Then… she smiled around his cock before giving it a solid suck, minding her teeth, taking it all in her mouth and running her tongue up along the length of the underside.  Hiccup gave another choked moan as, her cheeks concave, she released it from her mouth with an audible _pop!_   “I just realized.  We don’t need to stay quiet any more,” she said cheekily.  “So I’m going to make you _beg.  Loudly._ ”

“Astrid, oh go _ds!_ ” Hiccup said, his voice getting high pitched at the end as she got back to work on his cock, running her tongue and lips around it, and gently running her hair around the shaft, wrapping it in the blond strands and pulling them away, as Hiccup kept up a steady stream of nonsense words and loving profanity—but all of it quiet voiced except for that initial burst of surprise. 

Well, she loved a challenge.

She started to fiddle with his nuts and delicately running the tips of her nails up and down his chest through his thickening coarse hair, along the half-seen lines of his muscles, and along the sides of his thighs.  His right calf and what remained of his left were both trembling next to her breasts, and her nipples were so stiff and hard that they ached almost to the point of pain. 

“Gods, Astrid… oh my… ahhh… ooh… fuck… Astrid… holy… shit… gods…” Hiccup babbled as she worked at him.  More than once, he went to cup her head or fist his fingers in her hair as they normally did when she did this, but each time he halted and dropped his hands back down.

But all of his babbling was quiet, and she wanted him to _break._   To cry out her name such that, if there was another person in the house, they couldn’t fail to hear it. 

She kept working at him, bobbing her head and running her tongue up and down, keeping him right at the edge, backing off every time it seemed like he was close, enjoying the sweet-sour-salty taste of his pre-cum.  Other girls complained about the taste from their boyfriends, but either she was odd or Hiccup tasted different.  She’d never brought it up, either, as she didn’t dare risk having the rumor that she’d had oral sex get back to her father, but now that she thought about it, she was willing to bet that it was Hiccup who was different.  If nothing else, his diet was better than most of the guys she knew about, as the delicious food in her stomach demonstrated. 

Then, just as he seemed to be losing it and begging her to let him come, she took him _all_ the way in, as deep as she could go, her nose hitting his groin and his tip in the back of her throat, and reached out with her tongue and licked at the base of his cock and his balls. 

“Astrid!  Ahh!” he called loudly in a sudden rush.  She backed off as he came, hot and thick and sour and salty, in her mouth.  She sucked him dry, and them swallowed, feeling satisfied… and more than a little smug.  He looked at her dizzily, and said, “Gods, Astrid…”

She grinned at him.  “Mmm.  Dessert.”  She ostentatiously licked her lips, despite the fact that none of it had gotten there. 

He looked like he couldn’t decide between being amused or appalled, and then settled on amused.  He leaned forward and said, “That was mean.”

She smiled cheekily at him.  “Well, I guess that you’ll just have to get even, then.”  She hefted her breasts at him.  “Look how stiff and sensitive these are.  Imagine how you could make me—aahhhh, ooooooh…”

Hiccup had lunged forward, and latched his mouth on one nipple, his tongue flicking it back and forth, while his right hand was fiddling with and massaging her other breast, while his obscenely talented left hand had gone straight for her clit and was currently dancing on it.  He knew her so well—they’d come a long way from their early, awkward moments of last May, and she was _certain_ that he’d actually done _research_ on how to best reduce her to a puddle of goo.

Like he was now.  His fingertips were drawing a figure eight on her clit and down to her opening, every so often dipping inside and teasing her, while his tongue and teeth might as well have been made of spikes of pure desire from the way that he was nipping and licking at the stiff bud and making her moan with desire.

He moved slightly, and, not wanting to lose contact with him, she moved with unconsciously, not realizing what he was doing until she flopped onto the bed and they’d nearly exchanged positions.  Then he released her breast from his mouth with a pop and started to kiss his way down her stomach.  He stopped at her belly button and gave it a brief kiss before continuing downwards, his left hand still playing with her clit like it was a musical instrument, making her writhe in pleasure,  As his lips passed her waistline, he somehow managed to smoothly move around from her side to between her legs.  His hand ghosted upwards and then he was working her over with lips and tongue.

She remembered hearing once that the secret to good oral was having them spell out the alphabet on your clit with their tongue. 

It was just her luck that her boyfriend was multilingual, and wasn’t restricted to a single alphabet.  And meanwhile, his fingertips were ghosting over her breasts like the finest of feathers, paying close attention to the sensitive undersides. 

She fisted her hands in his hair as she moaned his name—and then, as he dragged the full length of his his tongue up leisurely along her clit, it was like a surge, a wave that started at that central point, up to her breasts and all through her body as she came.  She clenched all over and called his name. 

But not loudly, though, and as the stars faded, she saw him looking down at her with a satisfied and smug look on his face, his chin resting on his hands, and then he bent back down and wordlessly got back to what he’d been doing. 

She could feel him blowing gently on her quivering thighs as his fingers started to dance around her opening, and she moaned.  She was already sensitive, and he knew it.  She had made him call out.

He’d make her scream.

As he dragged the tip of his tongue up and down her thighs, he slid the first finger into her, and she moaned.  He started to gently rub it around her insides, resolutely ignoring that sensitive spot behind her hip bones. 

She moaned and jerked her hips at him.  He _tsk_ ’ed her and started to lick at her clit again, latching onto it with his lips and giving it a tickle with the tip of his tongue.  She moaned his name and wrapped a length of his untidy hair around her fingers.  Then he slid in a second finger, and the two of them started to wiggle back and forth inside of her.  She was writhing and gasping as he worked her over, constantly varying his rhythms inside and out.  Her breathing was ragged as he brought her to the edge again and again, but didn’t let her step over fully.  He would hit that sensitive spot with one or both fingers, and then back off, and then hit it again.

And then he did something new.  He took his mouth off of her clit just as she was _right_ at the edge, but before she could do anything more than start to whine at its loss, his hand twisted around, the two fingers hitting her _right there,_ and his thumb coming down on her clit, and the three fingers together _clenched_ on the sensitive knots of flesh.

Her orgasm was so intense that she spasmed in a bow right up off of the bed, screaming, “HICCUP!” at the top of her lungs. 

As she came down from the climax, stars still twinkling in her vision, she looked up at him and said blearily, “I deserved that.”

He smirked.  “And here I’m just worried that I might have just conditioned you to misbehave more.”

“Mmmh.  If misbehaving gets me that instead of this,” she motioned to her bruised cheek, “yes, please…”

His smile faded, and Astrid cursed herself for ruining the mood.  She sat up and took his hands. 

“It’s not your fault, Hiccup.”  She pulled him closer, and then pushed him onto the bed on his back, seeing that he was still hard, and glanced at the clock.  “It’s nearly two.  I say that we finish screwing each other’s brains out and talk in the morning, okay?”

He grinned softly at that as she straddled him and said, “Sounds good to…”  Then he paused and blinked.  “Astrid, I don’t have any condoms.”

She gave him a deadpan look and sank down on him, making them both moan.  “Hiccup.  Neither of us have _ever_ been with anyone else, right?”

“I haven’t…” he moaned as she started to ride him.

“And I haven’t.  And I’m already _pregnant._   Condoms aren’t needed anymore—and, honestly, I’m looking forward to feeling you come inside me…”  She clenched as best she could around him, and they both moaned. 

He reached up and started to play with her breasts with one hand and with her clit with the other as she rode him.  It _felt_ different without a condom—more intimate, more immediate.  And Hiccup looked more than a little dazed, his eyes half-rolled up into his head, his face lax with pleasure.  She braced her hands on his thighs and continued to ride him, arching her back, his hand falling free of her breasts, but his thumb on her sensitized clit still sent waves of pleasure through her body in time with his cock hitting that spot inside of her…

His free hand braced on her thigh, he started to thrust up into her, making her squeal softly with pleasure—but they were still being quiet, as old reflexes asserted themselves.  Hiccup was spending effort to try to keep the squeaking of the bed to a minimum, even as she gibbered out nonsense atop him.

Then, his hands shaking, he moaned, “Astrid…” the word coming out strangled on his lips, and she felt him expand inside of her, and a sense of warmth spilling inside of her was the final spasm that pushed her over the edge.

“Hiccup,” she called with joy as she clenched atop him, her climax making her lightheaded and sending stars bursting behind her eyes.  She happily slumped onto him, and she barely remembered him flicking off the lamp and pulling the covers up over them before they passed out. 


	3. Chapter 2: Can I Clear My Conscience

Chapter 2: Can I Clear My Conscience

 

Hiccup woke up slowly as his alarm blared music at him.  He instinctively went to slap at his phone, but someone else laying right next to him yelped and jumped, sending the covers flying off and allowing a rush of cold air in over him.  That sent every hair on his body to stand on end and making his morning wood shrivel up and try to crawl up into his body cavity to hide. 

He blinked and saw a stark naked Astrid Hofferson standing in a crouch, her arms raised ready to strike, right in front of his bed. 

Then last night came flooding back. 

Astrid had called him for help.  Shown up at his door.  She was pregnant. With his baby.  And they’d had wild-monkey ‘we don’t have to stay quiet anymore’ unprotected sex until they’d passed out on top of each other. 

“Astrid…” he said, reaching out gently.  “It’s okay.  You’re safe.” 

She was breathing hard, like she was ready for a fight, and Hiccup tried to keep his eyes on her face, instead of on the perky boobs whose nipples were quickly pebbling in the chilly morning air and going up and down as she breathed… Oh, fuck.  He focused back on her face, and smiled.  “It’s okay.”

She nodded, still breathing heavily, bent down, picked up the blanket, and came back to the bed, pulling the down-filled coverlet over them as she settled back next to him.  “I’m sorry.  I got startled.”

He put his arms around her.  “Are you okay?”

She shook her head.  “No.  I… I wake up fast.  If I don’t get out of bed and start on my morning schedule when the alarm goes off…”  She shivered, and he was pretty sure that it wasn’t from the cold. 

He reached over and shut off the alarm-music just as Imagine Dragons were singing about the warriors who built this town, and then put his arm back around Astrid.

“So… now what?” he asked quietly. 

“What time does your dad get back?” she asked. 

He shrugged.  “Don’t know.  Here, let me check.  I usually get cc’ed his itinerary—” _thank you, Gobber,_ “—but those can be subject to change in an emergency.”

She nodded.  “And I should… I should check the messages.”

They reached for their phones.  Hiccup flicked through the pass-screen and checked his email, looking to see if there were any updates to when his dad would be getting back.  When he couldn’t find any, he flicked over to the social media accounts to see if the gossip about Astrid had started to spread yet.

A cursory search didn’t reveal anything from their schoolmates.  He was setting up to make a quick anonymous check of Astrid’s dad’s accounts when she cringed in front of him, and he made a questioning noise. 

#

Astrid shivered against Hiccup as they laid together in his bed.  Gods, how had he not freaked out when the sound of an unfamiliar alarm had been enough to send her into a fighting stance out of a sound sleep?

But he hadn’t freaked.  Instead, he’d reassured her, and calmed her.

She didn’t deserve him.  If she’d been braver, she would have stood up to her father—and the social expectations of their school—and made their relationship public.  Instead, he’d tolerated being her ‘guilty secret’ for months, and _still_ , when she showed up in the middle of the night with news that shattered both of their worlds, he didn’t just take her in… he had fed her and taken her to bed. 

And her father thought that she’d go for one of the muscle-headed, self-centered sports players, like Snotlout or Eret. 

She stretched herself out against her boyfriend’s wiry frame and felt… safe. 

Safe enough to face the dozens of notifications that her phone’s lock screen was showing her.

Bracing herself, she keyed in the unlock code. 

Dozens of messages through the night.  Messages from Heather.  Messages and emails from her father’s email.  Messages from Camilla, Ruff, and Merida. 

She looked at Heather’s messages first.

_Your dad just came back spitting mad.  Screamed at me to tell him where you are,_ was the first message, around the time when Hiccup had been feeding her rice soup _._

_I’m purging my message history with you, just to be on the safe side,_ was a minute later _._

_Ast, when you said that your dad was a control-freak jerk, I thought that you were exaggerating.  Wow,_ had come when she’d been polishing off the last bowl of soup _._

_Wow, am I glad that I’m on the other side of a locked door from him,_ had come about when she’d had Hiccup’s cock in her mouth, or at least that was her guess. 

After they’d fallen asleep, there had been one final message.

_Sorry, but I had to give up the contact info for your account or be grounded, locked out of the wifi, and sent off to a nunnery.  If you don’t contact him back ASAP, I’m in deep shit.  I didn’t give him the phone number, though, because can’t they trace those?_

The rest of the messages had been from her father… and were pretty much what she expected.

The last one, though, made her cringe.

Hiccup made an inquisitive noise, so she showed him the picture attached to the email.

He hissed when he saw it—her room being methodically destroyed, with the attached message of _I’m sure there’s a clue in here somewhere.  I’ll find it.  Or you can come home now._

She showed him Heather’s messages, and he nodded.  “Yeah, they can triangulate on the cell towers.  Good job, Heather.”  He hauled himself out of the bed, and a part of Astrid—the lower part, mostly—immediately missed his comforting warmth behind her. 

He yelped at the chill in the air and grabbed his pyjama pants from where they’d been left on the floor during the night, hauling them up onto himself.  “Gods, it’s cold!”

“So come back to bed…” she said, stretching languorously, trying to tempt him back in. 

His eyes latched onto her chest where it peeked above the top of the blanket, and then he ripped them back to her face.  “I need to use the bathroom.  And we need to eat breakfast, and figure out what our next move is.”  He scowled.  “There’s no way in Hel that I’m letting him get his hands on you again, but that means we need a plan.”

Her stomach then gurgled and growled. 

She glanced down at it.  “Traitor.”

He smirked.  “Shower?”

She blinked.  “Together?”

His smirk deepened.  “Saves water, right?”

She shook her head and rolled out of the bed, clutching the covers around her for warmth.  “When you put it that way…”

He laughed.  “Come on.  I’ll set the thermostat to warm up the house while we get cleaned up.”  They quickly took turns using the toilet; Hiccup, true to his word, started getting the house warmed up while she emptied her bladder. 

The bathroom was gorgeous, at least.  Occupying half of the floorspace was a giant bathtub—appropriately sized, she realized, for Hiccup’s imposing father—with two showerheads built into the walls behind the glass shower screen that divided the room in half.  The walls and floor were done with earth-tone tiles that had Norse motifs on them of spiraled and knotted ropes, animals, and plants.  The effect was beautiful, and was so different than the soulless living room downstairs that she wondered what the reason for the contrast was.  A heatlamp built into the ceiling offered a wonderful sense of warmth as she did her business, and she fiddled with her phone, looking over the messages.

Judging by the time stamps, her father was probably asleep now; he’d been up until the wee hours of the morning searching for her and trashing her room.  She composed a quick email to him so that Heather wouldn’t get into trouble.

_Just letting you know that I’m safe with a friend.  But I’m not coming home.  And you can destroy my whole room if you want.  You won’t find any clues and it’ll give me that much less reason to come home._

She looked it over three times, swallowed, and, after hesitating long past the point where she had finished her business, sent it. 

Her hands shaking, she put the phone down on the sink’s countertop and finished up.  As she washed her hands, she heard Hiccup knock. 

“You okay?” 

She nodded, and, realizing that he couldn’t see the motion, she said, “I sent an email to my father letting him know that I’m safe… but not telling him where.”

Hiccup was silent, and then he said quietly through the door, “I won’t let him get you or hurt you, I promise.”

“I know,” she said, and let herself look at herself in the mirror above the sink.  And winced.  The handprint on her left was a vivid black and blue, making a clear outline of her father’s right hand; the tip of the middle finger had bled into her eyelid, giving her an oddly lopsided black eye. 

She sighed, and braced her hands on the sink’s countertop, and bowed her head.  Her hair drifted down over her shoulders, and she stood like that until Hiccup cleared his throat and asked politely, “Can I come in?”

“Yeah,” she said tiredly.  She felt drained.

Hiccup opened the door; from his angle, he wouldn’t be able to see the bruise on her face.  As he entered, she didn’t turn towards him.

“What’s wrong?” he asked gently. 

“Hiccup… I…”  She balled her fists and punched at the wall.  Not hard enough to break anything, but hard enough that it hurt her knuckles. 

Instantly, he was there and holding her, making soothing noises.  “It’s okay… it’s okay… I’m here…” he whispered as he put his hand on her arm and gently made her lower it.  He hugged her, and she turned and cried into his bare chest. 

“Why does it hurt so much?” she sobbed.  “I hate him… why do I feel like going back?  He won’t change.  He never does.  I hate him…”

Hiccup stayed silent and held her as they swayed together, helping support her as her knees grew weak and unsteady.  She always had to be strong, always had to be the best, always had to be the top of the class, because otherwise nothing else was acceptable.  But even when she lived up to those expectations, there was that edge of dismissal, of constant put downs. 

_Astrid!  Top grade!  Good job, kid!  I didn’t think that you could actually do it!_

That had been one of the few times she’d beaten Hiccup in the class rankings.

As he held her, she couldn’t believe that she’d resented and hated him at first.  For being better than her in school… for making her father think that she wasn’t good enough. 

Now, as he made gentle hushing noises as tears came from her eyes, she knew that the day that her father had told her that he was hiring Hiccup as her tutor ‘ _so that you can actually be good enough’_ wasn’t the horrid insult and put-down that it had seemed to be at the time.  It had been the first step that had led to this moment right now.  She didn’t deserve him… but by some miracle, she had him.

His hands stroked her bare back as they stood in his beautiful bathroom… and the fact that it was gentle and supportive and _oh gods he was hard and he didn’t seem to care_ as he made soft shushing noises as she cried.  He was holding his naked girlfriend in his arms, and the only thing that she could point to as this moment being in any way erotic for him, instead of purely emotionally supportive, was something nearly beyond his control. 

She loved him, and she didn’t deserve him.  She’d blanked him at school, and kept up the appearances that their relationship was nothing more than begrudged tutoring for her, the competitive ‘have to be the best at everything’ girl.  He had every right to resent her.  Hel, the day they’d had their accident with the condom last month, _she’d_ been the one that had pushed for it. 

And now she was here, turning his life upside down, hiding from her father… and what was he doing?

Murmuring soft and supportive nonsense words into her ear as he held her. 

And that made her weep all the more. 

Finally, the tears stopped coming.  She felt emptied. 

“You okay?” he murmured into her ear, still holding her. 

She nodded.  “Just… gods.  It’s catching up with me.  All of it.”

He nodded.  “I understand.  Do you feel better?”

She gave another mute nod, and then turned and kissed him like she was drowning and he was air itself.  He reciprocated, and somewhere along the line, they ended up in the gigantic bathtub, running both showerheads on the pair of them, the water pressure and heat making her feel like she was having the noxious air of her parents’ house and the cold rain from last night washed away, gurgling down the drain. 

She felt _clean._

He grabbed a bottle of shampoo and started to lather up first his hair and then hers.  He worked the foam in gently and gingerly, clearly afraid of causing her more pain.  She stood there, her arms huddled around herself, letting him work on her.  She felt very pained and very raw, and not just in the bruises, and letting him take charge in this was a blessing. 

She’d always been strong.  Had to be strong.  Had to be good.  Had to be the _best._

Now she didn’t have to.  She could just _be,_ without needing to hold up the effort to be strong. 

And that was a gift like none other. 

Hiccup guided her head under one of the showerheads and started to rinse her hair clean, running his fingers gently through the strands.  The care he was taking to keep her from feeling any pain almost made her want to break down in tears again.  She’d never had someone take such effort to save her any discomfort—her father said that ‘pain is weakness leaving the body’—and she was cursing the fact that she had to be grateful to her father for bringing Hiccup into her life. 

She simultaneously barely noticed and was hyperaware of him applying the conditioner to her hair and rinsing it out, being at once dealing with her inner turmoil and yet so focused on her boyfriend’s loving care of her.  She wanted to go home.  She wanted her life back.  She wanted… gods help her, she wanted her father’s approval.  She wanted to hear him say that he was proud of her.  She… she wanted it all back, the way that it was.

But even as she wanted that, she knew that such a desire was impossible.  Not just because, if she went back, her father would march her into the hospital for an abortion by nightfall, and have her enrolled in a prison-esque boarding school by the next morning… but because those days had never really existed to begin with.  ‘Home’ had been a place where her diet was controlled, her comings and goings were examined and watched, her bedroom was inspected for contraband at irregular intervals…  Her ‘life’ had been a series of trials, curfews, and impossible goals that she was mocked for failing and demeaned for succeeding. 

And as her father’s approval…

She blinked her eyes open, feeling the stream of conditioner foam dripping down in a line over her face, to see Hiccup work at washing her hair, a look of supreme focus on his face.  He looked so cute and dorky and lovable and she had to stomp on an impulse to jump him right here and now in the bathtub, kiss him until he couldn’t see straight and screw him until he was reduced to babbling giddy gibberish with his tongue hanging out.  While she might have started their relationship partially out of him being the only man she was allowed around unsupervised, partly as a way to rebel against her father, and partly in reaction to Snotlout’s constantly passes at her… it had become so much more than that to her.  As much as part of her craved her father’s approval… it was barely a fraction of the part that basked in her boyfriend’s support and commitment. 

She didn’t deserve him.  But she had him.  And she had caused him pain.  Pain of having to pretend.  Pain of being alone.  Pain of being ignored in public.  Pain of being treated as something shameful. 

Pain was not weakness leaving the body.  Pain was injury.  Pain meant that there was something wrong.  Pain meant ‘This is not a good thing!’

Her father caused her pain.

Hiccup soothed her pain.

And it was as simple as that.  And she could sooth Hiccup’s own pain. 

She almost jumped as Hiccup murmured, “That’s it for the conditioner.  I’ve got bar soap and body wash.  Which do you prefer?”

She wordlessly took the body wash, and started to lather it up—and then, watching him, she started to spread the lather across her body. 

He unconsciously licked his lips as he watched as she soaped herself up.  Then he almost jumped in surprise as she stepped forward across the tub and pressed her front against his.  “Shall we share?” she asked in what she hoped was a seductive murmur. 

“Y-yeah,” he stammered, and she rubbed herself against him, soaping up his front in a delicious sensation of slicked skin. 

“I’ll get your back if you get mine?” she asked, her voice feeling husky.  He nodded, and they started to rub more body wash and foam across each other’s backs.  She hugged him, wrapping her arms around his body and moving up and down to get the citrus-scented body wash all over him, while he was taking great big handfuls of the soap and rubbing it up and down her back.  And she was sure that it wasn’t an accident that he paid thorough attention to her ass. 

She returned the favor, and was rewarded with watching his dick start to come to attention.  So she washed that thoroughly too. 

Which made Hiccup yelp in surprise.  “Astrid!”

She shot him an innocent-mischievous grin.  “Hey, this way I know it’s clean…”  She gave it a quick squeeze up and down the shaft and gleefully listened to him give a strangled moan of pleasure.  Then she got back to it.

“I wasn’t… oh gods… aware that… my hygiene… was in… question…” he gasped out as she stroked him and played with his balls, being sure to heavily soap them up and get the foam into every little crevasse down there. 

She continued to smile at him.  “It’s not.”  And it wasn’t.  He took good care of himself, and she’d never had cause for complaint when she’d blown him in the past.  This was just fun.  She bent in and kissed him, rubbing her front up against him.  After a moment’s consideration, she let go of his cock and wrapped both arms around his back, and pulled them both back under the full spray of the showerheads.  As the warm water cascaded down around them, washing off the suds, she thrust her tongue into his mouth. 

His exclamation of surprise was swallowed by the kiss, and then he immediately reciprocated.  It was such an erotic feeling as she felt his tongue moving around in her mouth, rubbing against her own, that she felt herself grow wet inside in response.

Oh yeah… they weren’t leaving this shower without them screwing each others’ brains out. 

A naughty thought occurred to her, and she resolved to see it come to fruition. 

As the last of the soap suds vanished down the drain, she continued to kiss him, and then pushed him up against the tiles of the wall. 

Reluctantly, she broke the kiss, reached down and stroked him, and asked, “Do you want to?”

He blinked.  “In here?”

She nodded. 

He reached down and parted her folds before sticking a finger inside.  “I… I think that we need some lube before we try that in here…  I remember reading that the shower can wash away your natural lubricants.”

Feeling his finger in her, she reluctantly nodded.  “Well, how about this instead?”  She pulled his hand free, dropped to her knees and took his cock in her mouth without any hesitation or ceremony, running her tongue around the rim of his glans.

He groaned, and she shut her eyes and enjoyed the sensations of him in her mouth, his twitching thighs brushing against her cheeks as she bobbed her head up and down, the warm water of the shower cascading over them both.  He had his hands braced on her shoulders, and he was gently rubbing them—and then he got some lotion from the nearby shower basket and started massaging that into her skin.

Heh.

That was amusing, giving what she had in mind.  But she didn’t mind in the slightest—it felt wonderful.

She worked on him, bouncing between taking in his full length, or playing with just the tip and using her hands on the rest of the length of his cock and playing with his balls.  She remembered one other technique that she’d accidentally discovered the other week and started to hum.  The vibration made him moan, and she upped her tempo, both in her dubious music and in the motion of her head and hands.

Finally, he gasped out, “Astrid, I’m going to come… uhhhh…”

She pulled him free from her mouth and running her hands up and down the length of his cock, pointed it at her face and breasts as he shot off a good number of spurts all over her. 

Breathing heavily, he glanced down.  “Why…”  She rubbed it on her skin, and he actually twitched. 

She grinned, and licked around her mouth.  “Why?  Because that was something we _never_ could have gotten away with in my parents’ house.”

He blinked.  “Oh.  Like the wanting to make me loud last night?”

She nodded.  “Exactly.  I’m tired of living by their rules.  I want to make our own rules, for us.”  She walked over to the showerhead and washed herself clean as he stared and unconsciously pumped himself.  She then walked over and gave him another kiss.  He leaned into it, and, groping blindly, turned off the showerheads.  They stood there, dripping dry, as he drifted his fingers down to her clit and folds, and started to dance them over the sensitive, aching skin. 

It came as a shock when she realized that he had backed her against the wall, never having broken the kiss, her breath through her nose coming hot and panting as he skillfully brought her up… and up… and up, her pulse thrumming in her ears. 

He then broke the kiss and worked his way down to her breasts and started to lavish attention on them, nipping and licking them, and she was so far gone that she couldn’t do anything more than moan.

Her orgasm came like a wave over an overtopped dam, and she was washed away with it. 

When she surfaced a little bit later, Hiccup was standing over her, a towel wrapped around his waist, his robe—blue and patterned to look like the TARDIS—held out for her to put on.  He looked insufferably smug.  “Good one?” he asked cheekily. 

She slipped the cotton robe on and tied it shut with a roll of her eyes and a fond smile.  “Yes… but we need to buy lube.  Because I want a proper fuck in here at some point.  Maybe with the two of us having a bath together.”

He blushed a bit, but bowed and said, “As milady wishes.  So… breakfast, and then planning our next move?”

She nodded, and her stomach growled. 

He laughed, and they headed downstairs after throwing on some more clothes.  Her stuff was sitting in the dryer unit, having finished sometime in the night, and she paused for a moment as she realized that there was a real chance that the basket and backpack of shirts, pairs of underwear, pants and skirts were all that she had in the world.  Her father might have already destroyed the rest. 

Hiccup was puttering around in the kitchen as she folded the scant remains of her clothing and placed it carefully in the basket. 

“If you want,” he said as he rummaged in the cabinets, “we can order you some more clothes online.”

“What, you have a credit card?” she asked, incredulous. 

He nodded.  “Well, it’s my dad’s account, and I wouldn’t exactly buy sex toys with it, but I explicitly have access to it for buying food for myself, plus stuff in an emergency.”  He set a jar of something down on the countertop.  “I think this qualifies.”

She nodded, and they set to work.  She got out Toothless’s kibble and refilled his water bowl, and then went and got Hiccup’s laptop as he cooked.  Reentering the kitchen a few minutes later, her stomach rumbled at the mingled scents of apples, honey and ginger.  She took up her seat at the the breakfast bar, the closed laptop in front of her, and watched, her heart filled with love, as her boyfriend made her breakfast.  She went over the remaining notifications on her phone as she waited, in between watching Hiccup, in his ridiculously nerdy t-shirt—this one featuring the words _Cobalt, Manganese, Zinc, Copper, Cadmium, Lead, Bismuth_ and half a dozen other chemical elements written in the fonts for _heavy metal rock bands,_ a pun so bad that it had made her throw her panties at him when he’d proudly shown it to her upstairs—cheerfully work at the stove.  It looked like her father had worked his way down her list of close friends; she’d also gotten messages from Cami, Ruff and Merida, all concerned and trying to check in on her. 

She fired back vague reassurances to each of them that she was okay and safe and that they shouldn’t worry about her, and that she’d explain later.  But since none of them knew about her and Hiccup—only Heather knew what the full deal there was—she kept quiet on that part.

While she was ashamed that she’d kept their relationship a secret, there was no question that that secrecy had given her a safe place to flee. 

Hiccup came over while something was simmering on the stovetop; he flipped open the laptop and unlocked it for her, promising her that they’d set her up a profile of her own soon enough.  She started assembling a shopping cart of essentials as he finished up, and then a bowl of something delicious-smelling was put in front of her.

She looked down—it was clearly oatmeal of some kind, but it smelled heavenly.  “What is it?”

“Simmered oatmeal in milk mixed with diced apples, and berries and raisins, all cooked in honey, brown sugar, ginger and a bit of cinnamon,” he said, and sat down next to her with a bowl of his own, and a mug of tea with milk for each of them.  Toothless came up between them and was clearly intrigued by the People Food, even as Hiccup laughed and told his dog that he couldn’t have any. 

She scooped up a spoonful slightly dubiously—she hated breakfast oatmeal—and ate it. 

And immediately resolved to marry Hiccup just for his cooking and the sex.  It was amazing, and the sharpness of the ginger actually helped settle her stomach, as the sweetness of the apples, raisins and sugar counteracted the dull chewy blandness of the oats.  She quickly hit the bottom of the bowl and got a refill, which Hiccup watched with amusement. 

“How do you do it?” she asked, shoveling in great heaping spoonfuls of the stuff and washing it down with gulps of tea.  “I mean, this is like something I’d expect at a restaurant.”

He chortled.  “Because I’m a guy, and guys can’t cook?”

“Well, yeah, wait, no, not that!  I mean, that’s part of it, but, Hiccup, you’re sixteen.  How the Hel are you a gourmet cook, on top of everything else?”

He drummed his spoon on the bowl and smiled at her.  “Well, you see, it was all part of my cunning plan.  I had to be effeminate and unmasculine enough to make your dad’s testosterone detectors give off a false negative so I could get close to you and—” She swatted him with her spoon, and he laughed.  “One of our neighbors is an old friend of my dad’s, and she comes by a few times a week to help with raising me.  She taught me how to cook when I was a kid.  You think that my stuff is good, hers is better.”

“Amazing,” she said, stealing a spoonful from his bowl.  “And Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“I don’t buy into my father’s bullshit about ‘men can’t cook’.  Is that why you never told me before that you could?”

He shrugged.  “A bit.  I’m enough of a Hiccup as it is, y’know?”

She nodded unhappily at the reminder of his nickname.  The runt of the litter.  The aberration.  She scowled, and then forced a smile to her face.  “Well, you know what?  This is more than just talent.  This is art.  And I’m amazed at what you can do, and grateful that you _aren’t_ one of those ‘alpha males’.  And if you were… we wouldn’t be together.”

“And you wouldn’t be…” he nodded his chin towards her belly.

She shrugged.  “And I wouldn’t be being fed awesome food and feeling the afterglow from equally awesome sex.  You’re definitely a Hiccup… but you’re an outlier on the high end, not the low,” she said, saying this last with a wide, loving grin.

Hiccup paused and her heart sank and her smile faded.  She hoped that he hadn’t just hurt him with what she’d said. 

“I… I guess,” he said.  “I… I’m just tired of being an outlier.”

“Don’t be.  You are who you are, Hiccup… Henry,” she said, using his real name.  “You’re a better person, and a better man, than any of those muscle-bound thickheads in the median.  And I… and I appreciate that more than I can say.”  She almost said that she loved him… but she had the feeling that would scare him off. 

He nodded, a small smile coming to his lips.  “Yeah, I can see that.  Thanks, Ast.”

Toothless came up with his leash in his mouth; Astrid realized that she hadn’t noticed when he’d gone, but he was clearly itching for a walk.  As he sat there, his tail wagging, she noticed that his rear left foot was made of black plastic and blinked in surprise. 

“Hiccup—”

“Yeah, Toothless is sporting some aftermarket parts, just like his owner, aren’t you boy?” he said, crouching and running his hands through his dog’s thick fur.  “C’mon.  I’ll take you for a walk!”

Astrid grinned at the pair of them, and then felt her heart melt more as Hiccup turned to her.  “Wanna come with?”

She shook her head.  “Want?  Yes, dammit.  Can?  No.  All I have are these slippers, and I walked, what, a few kilometers in them last night?  My feet are still killing me and I need new shoes.”

He looked disappointed, but nodded in agreement.  “Well, hop online and order what you need.  We’ll be back in a bit.”  He went and got on his shoes and running jacket, and before he left with the bouncing dog, she caught him by the door, and gave him a kiss so intense they were both breathing heavily at the end of it, and Astrid was feeling dizzy. 

“What was that for?” Hiccup asked. 

“Everything.  Taking me in.  Taking me to bed.  Making me scream your name.  Feeding me.  For giving me a safe place.  For being… _you.”_  

He blushed.  “I don’t know what to say to that… but you’re welcome, milady.”

Toothless, clearly having had enough of waiting, barked once, and the moment broke.  “All right, all right, c’mon, yah mutt,” Hiccup said fondly, and they left.

She watched them go, heading for the nearby park, and she clasped her hands over her heart, and muttered out loud to herself, “Henry ‘Hiccup’ Haddock… I love you.  And when you get back, I’m going to say that to your face.”


	4. Chapter 3: If I'm Different From The Rest

Chapter 3: If I'm Different From The Rest

 

Hiccup and Toothless jogged through the neighborhood on his bud’s daily walk, his mind in turmoil, from the conversation he’d just left behind, and from the events of the, gods, was it really only late morning?  The events of the last twelve hours. 

He reviewed the situation.  Astrid was safe in the house, but her possessions amounted to one large laundry-basket’s worth of clothes, one pair of battered sheepskin slippers, still drying out, a backpack, and a cheap Droid phone.  She was putting together an online order on his account for some more clothes, a coat, and some shoes while he exercised his bud. 

Her father was actively hunting for her, and he was an abusive bastard who had hurt her—and didn’t know that he and Astrid were together.

Oh, and he and Astrid had had sex twice in the last twelve hours.  More, if you counted the individual acts instead of the overall encounters. 

And they hadn’t used condoms because it didn’t make a difference anymore…

As they ran through the park, Hiccup tried to deal with the thought that Astrid was pregnant.

Gods. 

He had knocked her up. 

And rather than murdering him, she was hiding in his house from her asshole dad. 

But he had still _knocked her up._

A vast, indescribable feeling was bubbling underneath his skin, making him feel half-giddy, half-terrified, and all-around off-kilter.

They’d been secretly dating for nearly a year, and having regular sex for five months. 

And it had been hot, and fun, and he’d been falling harder and harder for the gorgeous, smart, and oh-so-sensual girl that he could never have.  Not when it had been clear to him that her dad was an overprotective ass.  He was paranoid about men being around his daughter to the point where Hiccup had actually gotten and read a book on spy tradecraft for ideas on how to out-paranoid him. 

He and Astrid had needed to plot each encounter together like they were going to be executing the perfect crime—no evidence left for the CSI techs to find, especially of the incriminating bodily fluid types.

He’d helped her pick a burner phone and instructed her on how to use it.

They’d smuggled in condoms into her house, hiding them and the used wrappers in his calculator case, which he’d hollowed out.  They just used their phones for calculations when they actually did homework.

They’d nearly been caught more than once, but he was so tied up in her that he couldn’t stop, couldn’t just do the sane thing and walk away.  And what had saved them during those near-misses in the past was that her dad didn’t see him as a threat to her—his threat assessment profile was firmly structured around big, virile, strong ‘alpha men’ who played sports, had muscles on their muscles, and dripped testosterone from their pores.  Men like him. 

To Mr. Hofferson, the idea of Hiccup—all fifty-some kilos and hundred and seventy-six centimeters of him, thin and lanky, who wore perfectly ironed button-downs and ties to school, had horn-rimmed glasses and a prosthetic left leg, and was a ranked member of the chess club—being a potential seducer of his virginal daughter was beyond patently absurd, it was literally incomprehensible.  After all, Astrid would _never_ want someone like him—and someone as scrawny as him wouldn’t, _couldn’t,_ be a physical threat to someone like Astrid.  And that blind spot had been one that they’d exploited for every step and moment of their relationship.

Hel, just two weeks ago, her father had almost caught them, with Hiccup buried balls-deep in Astrid on the other side of an unlocked door, but he had left them alone when Hiccup had started to spout Physics gibberish for their upcoming exam.  Well, not gibberish.  He’d started explaining to Astrid about the concept of the coefficient of friction, and Amontons’ first and second laws regarding sliding friction.  Mr. Hofferson had left when he’d been explaining, as deadpan as he could manage, the effects of a lubricant on reducing friction effects.

They’d both almost died laughing after that, and they had continued with their practical demonstration of the concepts, even as he’d continued to explain the slip-stick phenomenon. 

And it had taken every bit of self-control Hiccup possessed when he’d gone to leave; Mr. Hofferson had intercepted him and thanked him for taking the time to help his daughter understand “that science stuff” because she needed it to pass her Highers and get into university.  Hiccup was certain that the only reason the man hadn’t seen right through his act was because he was so dismissive of intellectuals like Hiccup. 

He didn’t seem to realize that his daughter was smart enough on her own to be able to understand the material, and all Hiccup did was help her conceptualize it faster.  In fact, he was downright dismissive of Astrid’s own native intellect, and had been so consistently in his talks with Hiccup. 

Hiccup continued to run alongside Toothless, the Newfoundland-Labrador mix breaking excitedly from the sidewalk to chase squirrels and pigeons on the lawns as they passed.  But Hiccup’s own thoughts were still in turmoil.

Mr. Hofferson was a sexist ass who thought that Hiccup was a nonthreatening effeminate man (or even homosexual, based on his comments), and that he wasn’t even a ‘whole man’ with his prosthetic.  And therefore Hiccup was no threat to his daughter’s virtue, as he assumed she would only be interested in strong, virile, hypermasculine men.  The fact that she’d initiated and escalated each stage of their relationship would doubtlessly be a shock to him.

It had been a shock to Hiccup, that was for sure.  And he wondered if she actually liked him, or if it was just the (great) sex and rebelling against her dad.  But he’d fallen for her, and fallen hard, and he’d done everything he could—including acting like they meant nothing to each other in public—in order to keep her safe.  He’d been her dirty little secret, the weedy geek outcast with few friends.

And all of it… all of it had been worth it to hear her breathy gasping when they were together, to feel her, hot and wet, around him.  For those moments when they had been in her bed, the two of them rutting together, hearing her begging him for more, which he’d always given her. 

And yet… they’d made one mistake.  And despite her comment from last night that it was her fault… he was every bit as responsible. 

And now she was in danger.  He had no doubts as to that.  Her dad’s message where he’d trashed part of her room had made that very clear, plus the handprint on her face.  He hadn’t noticed it at first last night—she’d been so flushed and cold that it hadn’t stood out.  But as she’d warmed up, the flush on the rest of her cheeks had faded, except for that bit.  And now it was turning into a livid bruise.

His hand clenched around Toothless’s leash as they turned onto his home street. 

Well, she might not love him.  He might just be a safe place to hide and great sex, and now good food.  But he loved her, for the jokes, the sass, the banter, the trust, the talks… and the sex.  And he’d protect her, however he could.

For the moment, that meant giving her shelter from a man who thought that threatening to destroy what little personal property she had was a proper tactic to use to get her to come home— _after_ he’s verbally abused her, assaulted her and confined her with no food for half a day, and all that just yesterday.  It meant feeding her and hugging her and letting her cry into his chest. 

Even if she hadn’t been his girlfriend, she was someone in trouble, and he didn’t want to look into the mirror at a guy who wouldn’t help someone in her situation.  And then there was the issue of the baby…

Hiccup gulped and continued running, turning onto his home street, not noticing his phone buzz in his pocket.  Yeah.  The baby. 

His baby.  His and Astrid’s. 

Gods.

They hadn’t even talked on it yet.  He didn’t even know if she would keep it or what.  She was here because of her father’s abuse, not the baby’s existence. 

He passed the scant few cars parked on his street without noticing them, slowing down from the jog.

But… but…

His phone buzzed again, and he noticed and, frowning, pulled it from his pocket.

There was a message from Astrid, and he opened it.

_Hiccup!  Don’t come back yet!  My father is parked outside your house!_

He suddenly heard footsteps approaching and had a sinking feeling. 

He looked up to see Mr. Hofferson walking towards him, a small smile on his face.  “Henry, good to see you, son,” he said charmingly.

Hiccup fought down panic and fear and, half-feigning catching his breath, looked down and plastered on a friendly smile of his own.  Looking back up, he said, “Hello Mister Hofferson!  Astrid and I are still on for a study session tomorrow, right?”  _Play dumb.  You know nothing about Astrid having run away,_ he told himself.  “Hey, Toothless, go inside,” he said, and let the big dog head in through the doggie door to get his water and kibble.  Toothless was very sensitive to Hiccup’s moods and he didn’t need to give Mister Hofferson the help in smelling out Hiccup’s lies.  This was going to be hard enough. 

Mister Hofferson’s smile cracked slightly.  “About that… I take it that you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?  We’re on mid-term break, Mister Hofferson.  I don’t have school today, so I’m a bit behind on the gossip.”  Hiccup tried to keep his eyes on Mister Hofferson, and not roam over his house, because he was certain that Astrid was watching him talk to her father through the curtains.  He tried to continue to play dumb.  “Did something happen to Astrid?  Is she okay?”

Hiccup tried not to notice as the older man clenched his fist at his side—the same hand that had left the darkening bruise on Astrid’s face.  “She says that she is.  But she ran away from home last night, and I’m worried about her.”

“Ran away?  Astrid?  Maybe she stayed too late at a party or something, Mister Hofferson,” Hiccup said, the effort at playing dumb in the face of the man who had assaulted Astrid starting to strain at his self-control.  “That’s not running away.”

“She wasn’t at any party, Henry!”  Mister Hofferson gesticulated angrily.  “She was home, and then she left, taking a backpack of clothes with her and leaving her phone.  Can you imagine what it takes for a teenaged girl to leave their phone?  No, I’m sure that she was threatened—”

It took every gram of Hiccup’s self-control to keep the sarcastic comment from bursting free from his lips. _Gee, no, you don’t say?_

“—and possibly blackmailed, and now she’s hiding out somewhere, afraid to come home.  But I need to find her and bring her home where she’ll be safe.”

“Okay Mister H.  What do you need me to do?”

“Right now, I’m just trying to find my daughter.  She’s out there, and I’m sure that someone is going to try to take advantage of her, maybe hurt her.” Hiccup’s memory flashed to finding a bruise in the shape of a handprint on his girlfriend’s face.  “So if you know anything or can ask around, I’d be very grateful.  Her other friends are being less than helpful.”  Mister Hofferson looked down at Hiccup.  “Last I heard, she was on her way to Gary Jorgenson’s house, but she—supposedly—never arrived, and I don’t trust young mister Jorgenson where she’s concerned.”

“You and me both,” Hiccup said bitingly.  “Snotlout’s always trying to get her to go out with him, no matter how much she says no.”

Mister Hofferson looked at him with surprise.  “Henry, is it that bad?  I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”

Hiccup nodded, using the moment of honesty to build back up his thinning self-control.  It was hard, because all he wanted to do was kick Mr. Hofferson in the balls with the hard plastic of his prosthetic.  And if he broke it, that was fine; he needed to be fitted for a new one in the next few months anyway.  “Yeah.  He’s always… _pressing_ , asking again and again, and refusing to take no for an answer.”  He shivered, his cooling sweat from his run making his body chilly.  “Um… Mister Hofferson, I’ll let you know when I see her,” he said, and made for the door to the house.

He had gone maybe three or four steps before there was an iron grip around his arm. 

“‘ _When_ you see her’?  You know where she is, don’t you!?”

“No, I don’t!” Hiccup said, trying to shake the older, bigger man free, but Mister Hofferson hauled him back.  “Don’t you lie to me, you brat!  You know where my daughter is!  Spill!”

“I don’t!”

“Haddock, I came here because I trusted you!  I trusted you to come into my home and help my daughter!”  He hauled Hiccup, struggling, up in front of him.  “Now she’s missing, and if I find out that you’re protecting whoever has her, I will make sure that you face the consequences!”

Hiccup tried to wriggle free, but Hofferson had a berserker’s gleam in his eyes and Hiccup could barely make the bigger man’s arms twitch as he struggled. 

“In fact, if you don’t tell me right now where she is, you’ll never see her again, I can _promise_ you that!  I’m going to pull her out of that school as soon as I find her, and if you betrayed my trust, you can kiss that tutoring job I’ve given you goodbye!”

Hiccup puckered up and made an exaggerated kissing noise.  “Goodbye!”

“Brat!  Tell me where she is!” Hofferson dragged him over to the house and slammed him against the wall.  Hiccup saw stars. 

“Fuck you…” Hiccup breathed, dazed.

“You scrawny little shithead!  Tell me where she is, or I’ll break you!”  He slammed Hiccup into the wall again, and Hiccup felt blood start to seep from the back of his head.

Hiccup spat in his face and tried to kick him.  Hofferson hauled him away from the wall and was clearly about to throw Hiccup to the floor for more of a beating when Hiccup heard the door slam open.

“Let him go, Father!”

Hiccup turned his and saw Astrid and Toothless standing there on the front step; she looked furious and terrified, standing resolute even as she was shaking, the bruise livid on her cheek.  In front of her, Toothless was bending down and baring his few remaining teeth, growling in anger. 

“Of course…” Hofferson breathed, and dropped Hiccup, who half-crumpled to the ground.  “I was so busy looking for the boyfriend I forgot that you trusted the tutor…”

He lunged at her, and she dodged.  Toothless barked, but he wouldn’t attack until Hiccup ordered it—he was well trained. 

But rather than run for it, she ran for _him._   “Hiccup!” she cried out as she flung his arm over her shoulder and started to haul him away from her father.

And Hofferson came running up, Toothless nipping at his heels, and grabbed her by the arm.

“Got you!  You’re coming home, missy!” he cried, and hauled her away from Hiccup.  “And I’m going to charge him with aiding and abetting kidnapping, and find out who your boyfriend is—”

“ _He’s_ my fucking boyfriend!” she screamed, and, her father visibly startled, she wrenched herself loose from his grip and grabbed Hiccup again, making for the house—

Only for her dad to grab her by the end of her braid and _haul._

She screamed in agony, and dropped Hiccup.

Hiccup landed hard as Astrid was being dragged away by her hair.

“Hiccup!  Let me go!  Hiccup!” she screamed, tears of pain dripping down her face, her hands wrapped around her braid near her head and trying to keep herself from being pulled along as her father hauled on the end. 

Hiccup staggered halfway to his feet and lunged at them, tackling her father in the back of the knees.  All three of them went sprawling on the grass, and Hiccup coughed and called, “Toothless!  Grab!”

Toothless charged and bit down on Hofferson’s leg as Hiccup scrambled back to his feet, and met Astrid halfway, only for Hofferson to sweep with his other leg and knock them both down.  Hiccup hit the concrete slab of the walkway hard enough to knock the wind from his lungs.  Hofferson staggered to his feet, kicking at Toothless, and grabbed Astrid by the arm again, hauling her to half to her feet and started to drag her off to the car as she resisted, digging in her bare heels into the wet grass and trying to break his hold on her, but he had her in a joint lock of some kind, and Hiccup could see that she could either come along or have her arm dislocated.

Hiccup staggered back to his feet again and ran after them, grabbing his fingers and starting to peel them off of her arm as Toothless bit at him.

“Get _off,_ you skinny twig!” Hofferson bellowed, and punched Hiccup in the gut with his other hand, sending him slumping to the ground, breathless and pained. 

But it was worth it to him, because her father’s grip shifted enough that she was able to break the hold and slip free, as a nearby car engine stopped.

But she ran for him _again,_ rather than run for safety, and as she bent over him, her father loomed behind her.

Then someone loomed behind him—who tapped Hofferson on his shoulder.

He turned, and came face to face with Stoick ‘the Vast’ Haddock.

Who looked _furious._

#

 

Astrid blinked as Hiccup’s dad grabbed her father and literally yanked him away from her and her boyfriend.  She rolled to her feet and went over to Hiccup, who looked like he couldn’t breathe, and hauled him to a sitting position. 

“What is going on here?” her boyfriend’s father growled, interposing himself between her dad and them.  “Who are you, and why are you assaulting my son and this young woman?”

“I’m Cameron Hofferson, and that girl is my daughter, who ran away from home last night.  I was bringing her home—”

She slung Hiccup’s arm over her shoulder, hauled her boyfriend to his feet, and made for the house.

“Get back here!” she heard her father bellow behind her.  “You’re not going anywhere, Astrid!”

“You’re right, I’m not!  I’m staying here!” she called back behind her, bracing herself to have her braid yanked again. 

But instead, she heard, “Haddock, let me get—She’s my daughter, dammit!  I’m taking her home!”

“No, yeh aren’t,” came that deep rumbling voice.  “I just witnessed you assaulting both of them, and she said that she isn’t leaving.”

She kept walking as Hiccup got his feet under him, and they leaned on each other, walking up the few paces to the house. 

“She doesn’t have the right to decide that!  I’m her father!” came from behind them as they mounted the step.

“Aye, and that just makes it worse.  Go.  Leave.  I’m not letting you take her—”

The door closing behind them cut off the last of the sentence, but her father’s shout of frustration came through clear enough. 

Hiccup reached up, his hand shaking, and threw the deadbolt. 

The two of them staggered into the living room and fell in a heap on the floor. 

“Ow,” Hiccup said.

“Ow,” she agreed.

They slowly hauled themselves back up to a sitting position as Toothless came in; he looked like they felt, and whined at them. 

“Up,” he said.  “Come on… up.” He stood slowly, staggering, and hauled her to her feet.  “Up… my room… we’ll barricade the door… just in case…”

She nodded, and they mounted the stairs as quickly as their injuries would allow.  Her neck was in agony, and Hiccup was holding himself like he was afraid to move too much.  They reached his room, and, working together, slid the bookcase next to the door in front of it.  Then Astrid gingerly helped him over to the bed and made him lie down before curling up next to him, her entire head throbbing in agony.  The window that she’d been listening through before was still open a crack, but she couldn’t hear anything in specific—just her father and Hiccup’s dad talking, their voices angry.

Then her father shouted, “You’ll hear from my lawyers!”

“Good.  I look forward to hearing from them,” was the reply, and then she heard her father’s car engine start—and he drove off.

They looked at each other, holding on tight to each other, as footsteps sounded below.  The front door was unlocked and opened, and more heavy footfalls came from below.

She touched Hiccup all over to assure herself of his health—and when her fingers touched the back of his head, it felt hot, sticky and wet, and he hissed.  She pulled her hand away to find it covered in fresh blood. 

She let him go, even as he protested, and grabbed a towel from the floor as the footsteps came up the stairs. 

Hiccup hissed in more pain as she held the makeshift compress to the back of his head—which made the footfalls pause, and then come more quickly.  A moment later, there was a knock at the door.

“Henry.  What in the names of all of the gods was that about?”

#

Hiccup felt dizzy and battered, and he was terrified of the conversation that he was about to have with his dad.  But he couldn’t exactly _avoid_ it, either. 

“Um… I’ll explain everything, but you have to promise to listen to it all first.”

“Henry.  Of course,” came the reply through the door and bookcase, muffled. 

“Nuh uh.  I mean it, Dad.  Not one of our usual one-sided conversations.  This is important, so save the cross-examination until I say it’s okay,” he said.  “Please, trust me.”

There was a sigh from his dad and he said, “All right.  Fine.”

“Thanks, Dad.  Um… one second.”

He got to his feet and the room swam for a moment, but he shook his head and the dizziness passed.  “Astrid, help?”

Together, they pushed the bookcase back to its normal position, and Hiccup opened the door.

To his relief, his father was standing there, his arms crossed and looking rather nonplussed—but not pissed.

“Dad… this is Astrid Hofferson.  Um… she’s my girlfriend,” Hiccup said, presenting Astrid with a wave of both hands; a part of him realized that this was the first time he had actually ever said those exact words to anyone.  Stoick looked at her curiously, but Hiccup continued.  “I’ve been tutoring her for months in schoolwork and prep for the Highers, and we got… close.  Her dad… well, he’s a control freak, and when he found out that she was dating without his permission, he hit her,” she turned her face to the side, presenting the big black-and-blue handprint, which Stoick noted with a small scowl and an acknowledging tilt of the eyebrow.  “He then locked her in her room… and she ran away last night and came here.”  Hiccup saw the obvious question in his dad’s eyes and addressed it.  “No, he didn’t know that it was me that she was dating—not until now.  Um… I was out exercising Toothless when he came, looking for clues to where she was hiding from him.  He talked to me, I slipped up, he attacked me—”

“—And I went out to stop him,” Astrid interjected.  “I couldn’t stand by and watch—”

“—You should have stayed inside!  He would have stopped eventually, and he wouldn’t—”

“—Hiccup, you can’t tell me to stand by and watch you get hurt!—”

Stoick interrupted.  “And that’s where I came in?”

Hiccup shrugged and took Astrid’s hand.  Now came the bad part.  “More or less.”

Stoick glanced at their hands, and then over the two of them, obviously looking over the mud and blood and scratches they both had. 

“Is there anything else I should know?” Stoick asked precisely. 

Hiccup swallowed.  “Uh… yeah.  He got the contact information for the burner phone she has, and has been using it to send her threats.  He trashed a quarter of her bedroom already and sent her a picture telling her to come home, saying that he was looking for clues to where she was.”

Stoick’s eyes narrowed.  “And what evidence did he find that told him that she was dating… but not who you were?”

Hiccup swallowed, and met Astrid’s eyes.  She looked back at him, trust in her eyes, and nodded, running her thumb over the top of his. 

Bracing himself, Hiccup nodded back to her.  Here it came.  He looked back at his dad, stared him straight in the eyes, and said, “She’s pregnant.  And I’m the father.”


	5. Chapter 4: Do I Have To Run And Hide

Chapter 4: Do I Have To Run And Hide

 

Whatever it was that Hiccup’s dad had been expecting to hear, _that_ wasn’t it.  Stoick actually rocked back on his heels, and Astrid felt Hiccup brace himself for whatever was about to happen next. 

She likewise did the same, keeping her knees slightly bent and her center of gravity low, in case she had to dodge.  Worst case… was pretty bad.  They were trapped in here, and Stoick was… well, at more than two meters tall, he had earned his nickname of ‘the Vast’.  Getting past him would be nearly impossible.

Stoick turned to Astrid, took a deep breath, visibly calmed himself, and looked her over.  “You’re pregnant?” he asked flatly, in a professionally distant tone.

She nodded jerkily, unable to read him and bracing herself, her heart hammering from the fight with her father, the pain in her head and neck, and fear of judgment from the man in front of her.  Her own father’s temper, never on a long fuse, got worse the more tired he got—and he had been been up all night, hunting for her. 

How would Hiccup’s own father react, coming home to a brawl and the news that she and Hiccup were… together?  Hiccup never really talked about him… but she’d gotten the impression that they weren’t the closest. 

“And you’re claiming Henry as the father?” Stoick asked, still in that same unreadable tone of voice.

She swallowed against the lump in her throat and nodded again, carefully watching his center of mass in case he suddenly moved and attacked.  Even with those long arms of his, the two of them were out of his immediate reach.  “I haven’t been with anyone else.”  She tightened her grip on Hiccup’s hand, bracing herself in case the big man reacted poorly.  “Just him.  We’ve been careful… but we had an… accident.”

Those big bushy eyebrows quirked for a moment in a brief crack of the professionally flat expression.  “I see.”  He stepped back for a moment and stroked his chin, clearly thinking.  He looked her over more than once as Hiccup put his arm around her waist, and she did the same with him.  Her heart was pounding and her stomach was roiling with nausea, and she could hear Hiccup practically panting with anxiety. 

Stoick looked at Hiccup, and asked, “And you’re certain that you’re the, the father?”  His tone was level, but he stammered once, which didn’t fill Astrid with confidence.

Hiccup swallowed and nodded.  “Yeah,” he said in a choked voice.  “And it was my fault—”

Astrid didn’t let that stand.  “Oh, right, like I wasn’t the one who convinced you that it was still good enough—”

“It was my responsibility—!” Hiccup protested—

And then they both shut up as Stoick made a silencing chop at them, looking them over.

Astrid could count her pulse in her neck without having to touch it, her heart was pounding so hard and so fast. 

But at least Hiccup’s father wasn’t attacking them, like her short-tempered father had.  But she was keeping herself tensed and braced to shove Hiccup out of the way if that changed. 

Then, finally, Stoick seemed to come to a decision.  “All right.  Both of you.  Coats, shoes. Now.”

Her heart sank.  “But—” she protested.

“I’m taking both of you to the hospital.  You both look like you went through a brawl, you’re both bleeding, Toothless doesn’t look much better, but we can drop him off at the vet on the way, and I want you,” he pointed at Astrid, “checked over by a gynecologist, and that fetus’s paternity tested and recorded.  And this way you won’t be here when your father comes back with his promised police and lawyers.”  He turned and went for the stairs.  “Now.”

Astrid felt like her jaw was going to hit the floor.  Hiccup was actually choking and sputtering. 

“Was I not clear?” Stoick asked sternly.

“No lectures?  No comments on how I disappointed you?  No… nothing?”

Stoick turned and smiled at them—which made Astrid blink in surprise.  But the big man addressed her boyfriend in a warm voice, saying, “Henry… Hiccup.  _Son_.  I’m going to be a grandfather.  And the girl you’ve got there went out _to face her abuser_ on your behalf.  And you took a beating on hers, from a man more than twice your age and size.  I couldn’t be prouder.  Now _get moving!_ ”

They both jumped into action, and did as they had been told. 

As she scurried for her hoodie and slippers, she heard Stoick on the phone downstairs.  “Hoy.  Sven.  It’s Stoick Haddock.  I have an issue and I need a consult.”  There was a pause, obviously as Stoick listened to, presumably, Sven.  “Thank you.  I appreciate it greatly.  Unfortunately, I don’t have much time for small talk.  The issue is as follows: I just ran into an abusive parent, and their child needs shelter from their abuse.”  There was a pause as Astrid came down the stairs, her slippers on her feet and her hoodie slung over her shoulder; Stoick was pacing in the living room, his phone at his ear. 

“What does the child need in order to keep him from dragging them back?” he asked, and there was another pause as Astrid came over with her phone.  “Evidence?  Sven, there’s a slap mark on her face that hurts to look at.  And I witnessed him beating her.”  Astrid wordlessly held up her phone, with the picture on the screen.  “Holy… Sven, how does callous destruction of personal property combined with extortion stack up as evidence?  I’ve got a photograph taken _by_ him of a quarter of the child’s bedroom destroyed with a threat underneath.”

She could hear Sven give a low whistle through the phone, and then a muffled comment of, “That should be enough, at least for a non-molestation order.  But you’re a military lawyer, Stoick.  What’s the situation?  Or is that privileged?”

Stoick met her gaze with a questioning look and mouthed the words, _Do you want me to tell him?_

She nodded.

He nodded back and said into the phone, “Sven, she’s my son’s girlfriend.”

She heard the muffled reply.  “Oh for the love of… Stoick!  Talk about conflict of interest!”

Stoick sighed, gave her one more questioning look, and she nodded.  She could guess what he was about to say next. 

“All right.  Then I’m also doing this on behalf of my family.  She’s pregnant with my grandchild, Sven, and he beat her because he found out.”

As Sven swore at length on the other end of the line, Hiccup came up, having swapped out his torn running jacket for something heavier, and took her hand.

Stoick nodded.  “So, Sven, I’m taking both of them to the hospital, right now.  Send the relevant bits to Gobber and copy them to me.  I’ll have him meet us there.”

“You got it, Stoick,” she heard, and there was a whistle of admiration.  “I’ll send it over.  Should I start selling tickets?”

Stoick snorted.  “Not yet.  Thanks, Sven.”  He hung up.

Ten minutes later, they were at Berk General Hospital.

#

The chairs were way too hard to be comfortable for too long, Hiccup decided.  Oh, sure, they had padding, but it was worn and packed down by too many people’s butts, to the point where it was like sitting on a concrete slab covered by fabric.

On the other hand, though, he didn’t mind too much. 

That was because Astrid was sitting next to him, and they were holding hands and she was leaning against his shoulder—on her unwounded cheek—as they waited to see the doctors.  Thankfully, there weren’t too many people around, but it also wasn’t exactly a big hospital. 

People were mostly minding their own business—but a few people were giving the pair of them odd or even hostile looks.  He realized after a little while that it looked like the two of them had been in a fight with each other. 

Well, he couldn’t help that.  It wasn’t like he was going to stand on one of the benches and announce to the whole hospital that he and Astrid were a couple and they’d gotten beaten up by her father because of it. 

At least Toothless was at the vet, being checked over.  It was just about time for his normal appointment anyway, so they’d just folded that in.  The assistant who had greeted them, Mulch, knew Toothless pretty well, and the big dog had followed the small round man off willingly, already acting as pathetic as possible in the hope of cadging the tummy rubs and treats that Mulch would almost certainly give him. 

They hadn’t been sitting for more than a few minutes, as his dad was off elsewhere, calling up his contacts and directing forces like the Army Brigadier that he was, when Astrid leaned over to him and asked quietly, “Hiccup… why didn’t you listen to my warning?”

He sighed.  “I’m sorry, Astrid.  I didn’t see it.  I was out running, and my head was so… busy with… _us_ , that I didn’t notice it until it was too late.”

She grimaced and nodded.  “Yeah… I figured as much.  So… um…”  She bit her lip, and looked very anxious. 

“What is it, Ast?” 

“Hiccup, I, I…” she trailed off, looking around the half-full room at the various people present, and sighed. 

She looked nervous, and he slung a comforting arm around her and squeezed slightly.  “I understand.  I wasn’t expecting Dad to react that way either.  I was all set for an argument and…”  He shrugged and gave a little laugh. 

She shook her head.  “No, that’s not what I was…”  She trailed off again and sighed.  “Hiccup, when I saw my father beating the crap out of you, I could only think about stopping him.”

He squeezed her hand and said, “I wish that you had let him.”

She gasped.  There was really no other way to put it.  A sudden sharp intake of breath, and she looked at him, tears starting to well up in her eyes.  “How can you even say that?  We don’t know how badly he would have hurt you!”

Hiccup shrugged—and winced.  “He would have stopped sooner or later.  One of the neighbors would have driven by or something, he would have stopped and I could have gotten that restraining order that Dad mentioned put on him, and then he couldn’t ever come near the house, and you’d be _safe_ and hidden there,” he said.  “Now… now he knows where you are, Ast.”

“Hiccup, he was _beating_ you!”

“He would have—”

“Stopped?  Hiccup, you were sassing him and making him more pissed off—and his temper was already short from looking for me!  As for the neighbor… you live on a side-street!  You had no way of knowing that he _would_ have stopped!” she hissed, glaring at him with those bright blue eyes that he loved so dearly.

“Not the first time I’ve gotten a beating from a bully, Astrid,” he said, trying for nonchalance. “And I’ve never had such a good reason to take one befo…” He trailed off, as he heard chanting voices coming from nearby.  He slumped as he identified the chant, and shared an incredulous look with Astrid.  “Oh, for crying out loud…” he said.  “I guess it is true what the Christians say.  ‘Speak the devil’s name, and he appears.’”

Astrid gave a half-laugh-half-sob as the chant of _“Snotlout, Snotlout, Oi, Oi, Oi!”_ echoed up the hospital hallways from the entrance. 

He huddled tighter against Astrid, and she did the same against him, as the doorway was flung open and half the school football team, muddied, bloodied, and battered from what Hiccup guessed was some independent practice, came into the hospital waiting room.

Hiccup’s second cousin, Gary “Snotlout” Jorgenson, was in the lead, bouncing the black and white football on one knee, a spectacular pair of black eyes blooming on his face to match the wide grin. 

Hiccup’s hope of remaining unnoticed, however, died an almost immediate death as Snotlout tracked around the room, looking for seats, and then did an impressive, almost theatrical, double-take at the sight of the two of them sitting together.

“Astrid?  What the Hel… Your dad was looking for you—Hiccup, what the Hel did you do to Astrid?!”

Hiccup and Astrid groaned as the rest of the football players—Eret, Tuffnut, Dogsbreath, Gustav, Dagur, and Dingwall—all turned and stared at the two of them.

“Secret’s out,” Hiccup muttered.

Astrid shook her head and pulled slightly away from Hiccup, while continuing to hold his hand.  “I know that my father is looking for me, Gary.  He did this to me.  And to Hiccup.”

“Huh?  What, why would he do that?” Snotlout asked, sounding baffled.

“And why would he beat on Hiccup?” Eret asked.

Gustav smirked nastily, making his split lip spill some blood.  “Better question is why wouldn’t he beat on Hiccup?”

Dogsbreath grunted unpleasantly, his right eye visibly swelling shut.  “Maybe he wanted a challenge?”

Then Snotlout glanced down at Hiccup’s hand, still holding Astrid’s.  “Whoa, what’s this?”  He stepped forward and grabbed at their hands.  “Henry, hands off her!  She’s not yours!”

Then Astrid twisted something and Snotlout jumped back, yelping.  “Hey!”

“The _fuck_ Hiccup isn’t mine!” she growled and got out of the chair, still holding Hiccup’s hand.  “He’s my damn boyfriend, Snotlout!”

Hiccup covered his face in his free hand as the whole football team froze—and then burst out laughing.

“No he’s not!” Dogsbreath said, sounding like he was about to piss himself laughing. 

“He’s your tutor!” Snotlout added.  “I always thought that was kinda sad—Hiccup had so little chance and he was so desperate that—”

Growling in anger, Astrid bent down, pulled Hiccup out of the chair, and kissed him. 

With tongue.

“—aye ahbaha ha huh?” Snotlout ground to a stunned halt.  Hiccup briefly glanced to the side even as he put his arms around Astrid.  Secret was out, might as well enjoy it. 

Snotlout looked dumbfounded, his jaw hanging open and his arms dangling at his sides. 

Hiccup shrugged and turned his focus back to kissing his girlfriend. 

After they’d been at it for a good long moment, Eret started to applaud, making Snotlout shoot him a dirty look.  Eret rolled his eyes but stopped. 

Then Snotlout shook his head from side to side, blinking, and scowled.  “Princess, if he’s blackmailing you or something—”

Astrid broke the kiss and turned to Snotlout, scowling.  “What, Snot, is it so hard to believe that I might _not_ want you?  I’ve turned you down _how_ many times now?”

“But… but… _him!?_   Look at him!  He’s a scrawny little toothpick!  He’s a _hiccup!_ ” Snotlout demanded, pointing an incredulous finger at Hiccup. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “And you’re a walking, talking advertisement for the advantages of meritocracy over legacy enrollment.”

Snotlout growled at him, making Hiccup waggle his eyebrows and put his arm around Astrid’s waist, and she leaned into it.  He pointed at Astrid.  “Your dad showed up at my house last night, saying that you had either run away or been kidnapped out of your room!  And now you’re with Hiccup!?  And you’re saying that he’s your _boyfriend?_   Bullshit!”  He stepped in close, and leaned in at Hiccup’s face.  “I don’t know what’s going on,” he thrust his finger into Hiccup’s chest, “ but I’m going—”

Astrid snatched at his hand and bent the finger in a joint lock, yanking him away from Hiccup.  “Don’t.  You. _Touch._ Him,” she bit out as Snotlout yelped, reflexively following her lead or rather than having his finger broken by her hold.

Astrid started to talk in a voice of distilled fury.  “You want to know what’s happened, Snot?  You want to _know!?_ ” 

“Astrid…” Hiccup said warningly. 

“What, like you said, Hiccup, secret’s out!”  She turned back to Snotlout and threw him back into the rest of the watching football players—Hiccup noticed that Eret was actually holding Dogsbreath back, while Dagur, Tuffnut, and Dingwall were miming eating popcorn. 

Snotlout staggered into Dogsbreath and Gustav, which almost caused a case of dominoes, and she started to rant at him, “Yes, we’re dating, and have been for _months,_ you _ass._   Hel, it’s thanks to you that I _started_ it with him, because you weren’t giving up, and being all creepy and stalkerish, and Hiccup was treating me like I was a _person!_   And then my father found out yesterday, did _this,_ ” she pointed to her cheek, “and, yeah, I ran away because he fucking locked me in my bedroom!”

Eret whistled.  “Wow.  So then how did Hiccup get beaten up?  Did he come rescue you?”

Snotlout scoffed, and Hiccup noticed that the hospital security was keeping a close eye on them in the background—and more than a few of the other people in the waiting area were watching, fascinated.  But Snotlout rolled his eyes.  “Don’t tell me that you’re believing this shit, Eret!?  Astrid dating _Hiccup?_  When she could have this?”  He motioned to himself.

Hiccup couldn’t help himself.  “Ah, yes, she could have the highest concussions-to-grade-average in the Year, ahead of even Ryan Macintosh.  Where is he, by the way?  Was he good enough at football to keep himself from getting hurt—”

Snotlout punched him.

Then Astrid returned the favor.

#

Astrid was so _fucking done_ with Snotlout Jorgenson and his ego!  They hadn’t _asked_ the footballers to come and harass them.  She’d been working up the courage to tell Hiccup that she loved him, and then Snotlout had pranced in and proceeded to act, _again,_ as if what she wanted didn’t matter!

So when Snotlout slugged Hiccup in the gut, she punched him in the face, and laid him out into the pack of footballers behind him.  She would have leapt at him and gotten some _excellent_ catharsis over the last day, if not for the hospital security men who had been watching.  They immediately waded in and pulled her off of him. 

They separated the two of them, with a warning to her to behave, and she and Hiccup were moved over to the other side of the room, as Snotlout tried to stop his new nosebleed—the last one having stopped only a little while before they’d gotten to the hospital, judging by his whining.

She and Hiccup now had some other seats elsewhere in the waiting room, away from most of the people, and that was enough privacy that she was weighing the merits of telling him now… in this dingy waiting room, while he was recovering from another punch.  No.  She could wait until they were back at his home, and in bed.  Or just over dinner, if she couldn’t wait any longer.  But she was still with him and enjoying every moment.  He had her hand held in his own, and she was shivering with little thrills of pleasure as he absently stroked his thumb over her sore knuckles.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah.  I, I honestly feel better for having shouted that in his face,” she said.  “Plus, well… it’s good that it’s out in public now.”

Hiccup quirked an eyebrow, and then nodded.  “Removes the temptation to go back to secret dating, is that what you’re thinking?”

She nodded.  “Exactly.”  She leaned up against him, but before she could say anything more—like how happy she was to be public with him—Dagur and Eret wandered over, and she mentally heaped curses upon their heads. 

“So… um… congratulations, I guess are in order,” Eret said, smiling slightly as she wished for him to give himself a concussion with the football.  “Please don’t hurt me, I already managed to sprain my ankle today,” he joked.  And he was limping pretty badly, Astrid noticed, now that he brought it up. 

She shrugged, trying to keep her scowl at a minimum.  “We don’t have to hide it any more.”

Dagur cocked his head, giving Hiccup a glance that made him tense up next to her.  “Is this why your dad showed up at my house last night?”

She gave him as flat a look as she could manage, imagining him having some injuries to match those of his teammates.  Maybe a nice set of black eyes…  “Yeah,” she bit out angrily at him.  “I ran away last night, and the first place my father looked was by you.  Because Heather is my friend.”

Dagur cocked his head to the other side.  “Does she know?”  He nodded towards Hiccup and her.

Astrid nodded.  “Yeah.”  She examined Dagur with narrowed eyes.  He was Heather’s older brother by only five months (courtesy of a surrogate), drugged to his eyes in mood stabilizers and anti-psychotics, and he still had the nickname of ‘the Deranged’ for his mood swings and temper.  But he was incredibly protective of Heather, and by dint of long friendship, her as well.  “She knows where I am and about us.  And she’s helped, and she approves.” 

Dagur seemed to actually consider that.  “So, brother…” he said, turning to Hiccup, who squeaked in sudden surprise.  “If I find that you’ve been hurting Ast—”

“Oh, for _fucks_ sake, Dagur!” she interrupted.  “Hiccup didn’t hurt me!  He’s _helping_ me!  And you can go take those threats of yours and shove them up your ass to keep company with your head!”  Dagur blinked, and started to laugh, which just ticked her off more.  She pulled out her phone.  “Do you want to see what he’s saving me from—what the Hel?”

There were notifications on her screen—and the number was growing as she watched. 

Feeling a sense of growing trepidation, she unlocked the phone, and saw messages from all her friends that had the phone’s contact information.

 _I’m gonna kill Hiccup if he lays another finger on you!_ came the message from Cami.

“What is it?” Dagur asked, craning in his neck to take a look. 

She checked another message, from Merida.  _Ast, what the hell happened to you?  You look like you got beaten up._

The words made no sense for a moment, and she hurriedly opened another message from Heather that had just arrived.

_Astrid, you might want to kill Tuffnut—and Ruff.  He just sent her a pic of you kissing Hiccup, and she shared it!  With everyone!_

She looked up and wordlessly passed the phone to Dagur.

He took it, glanced at his sister’s message, and shrugged.  “Want me to take care of it?”

She gave serious consideration to it, and then said, “No permanent harm?”

Hiccup twitched.  “What the Hel?”

“Check your phone.  I’m sure that you’re getting lots and lots of interesting messages,” she said, deadpan. 

Meanwhile, Dagur nodded to her instructions, smirked, turned and started to cheerfully walk back towards the rest of the footballers with a spring in his step.

Astrid watched him go, feeling a bit of satisfaction.

Tuffnut was on his phone, and didn’t seem to notice Dagur as he nonchalantly drifted over to him.  As he walked, and Eret sat down next to Hiccup, Hiccup unlocked his phone.  And immediately whistled.  “Wow.  Is this what it’s like to be popular?  I’ll pass.”

“How bad?” Eret asked, sounding curious.

“Thirty-three messages and counting,” Hiccup said, sounding appalled.  He started to fiddle with the screen, reading and dismissing message after message.  “Says its fake… fake… congratulations… eww… fake… accusation of blackmail… accusing me of hitting Astrid… fake… it was a bet and she lost… fake… photoshopping doesn’t work that way, you blithering idiot… congratulations…”

Across the room, Dagur plopped down next to Tuffnut, and slung an arm around the blond twin—who froze, and there was a growing realization on his face that he _might_ have made a huge mistake.

Before things could explode, however, the doors to the waiting room opened, and a pair of police officers entered.  “Henry Haddock?  Astrid Hofferson?  Come with us, please,” the one in the lead said. 

Glancing at each other, she and Hiccup stood.  As they left the waiting room with the officers, Astrid caught a glance of Tuffnut’s expression.  He was looking worriedly at Dagur, who was grinning widely at Tuffnut in a manner that made her glad that Tuff was already in the hospital. 

But nearby, Snotlout was looking vindicated.


	6. Chapter 5: I Never Said That I Want This

**Chapter 5: I Never Said That I Want This**

Astrid held Hiccup’s hand tightly as the officers marched the pair of them off down one of the corridors.  For a moment, she wondered if they were here from her father, and if this would end with her back in her parents’ house. 

But… if that was the case, then why would they have asked for Hiccup too?

A few turns later, though, and they ended up at an office, the sign on the door labeled _Larsson,_ and they were escorted inside by the unsmiling cops.  Inside was Hiccup’s dad, standing off to the side, talking intently on his phone.  She guessed that he was still standing because none of the chairs would fit him. 

Stoick said, “…and they’re here, so one moment.”  He lowered the phone, putting his hand on the receiver, and said, “Henry, Astrid, I need you to give Officer Hoark here your statements on what happened, from the beginning yesterday.”

Hiccup blinked.  “You couldn’t have come and gotten us?”

“I… what’s wrong?  I’m trying to get a judge for the restraining order for you and the order of non-molestation for Astrid before he tries anything else.”

Astrid exhaled through pursed lips.  “Gary and the rest of the football team are in the waiting room for sports injuries… and it looks like we just got arrested!”

Stoick facepalmed.  “Oh, that’s not good.”

“Even better,” Astrid said, holding up her phone, “Tuffnut—Laverne Thorston,” she corrected at Stoick’s confused glance, “sent a picture of the two of us to everyone at the school—and now people think that Hiccup did this!” she pointed to her cheek. 

Stoick groaned.  “Wonderful.  More damage control.  Alright then, let’s make this quick.  Officer Hoark, thank you for your patience, and lets get those statements down quick, shall we?”

The officer nodded, and started to take down Astrid’s recital of what had happened.  Her bruise was photographed, as was the positive pregnancy test.  The plastic stick was actually bagged as evidence, and a copy was made of her phone messages from her father’s account during the previous night.  Hoark was professionally bland during all of it, and Astrid couldn’t get a read on him. 

Then it came time for all three of them to make a statement on the confrontation from barely an hour before.  Her hand squeezed Hiccup’s as he told the officer what had happened, and that her father had attacked him unprovoked.  Then she told her part—about how she had gone out to confront her father—and then Stoick wrapped it up, even handing over a memory stick of the footage from his car’s dashboard camera.  He had apparently caught the whole thing from only a few moments after she had first come out of the house. 

Hoark plugged it into Hiccup’s tablet, brought up the file, and they watched.  Hiccup’s grip on her hand tightened as they watched her father grab her hair, making her drop Hiccup from the half-carry.  She buried her face in his shoulder when her father got her in that joint lock.  She’d been studying martial arts since she five years old, but her father had been studying them since he was her age and he had fifteen centimeters and close to fifty kilos on her.  In a straight-up fight, she had no chance against her father.

But Hiccup had come to her rescue again.  And again. 

What had she done to deserve his devotion, she had no idea.  But now he was getting slandered by their peers for being in her life, for standing up for her.

Her hand clenched into a fist. 

She was going to see that fixed, one way or another. 

The officer finished watching the video, asked some questions about what they had been doing and when, mostly directed to Stoick.  Once he was done, he put the recording into evidence as well, and then left. 

Astrid watched the door close and shivered.  “That…”

“Aye, Hoark is like that.  He has the jotunn’s own poker face,” Stoick said.  “But I know him.  He’s retired Army, and we know each other both professionally and personally.  And he’s appalled, I can assure you.”

Astrid gave the door a sidelong look.  “How could you tell?”

Hiccup snorted.  “It was the small pebble he cried out from that granite cliff he calls a face, right?”

Astrid snorted, and Stoick rolled his eyes.  “No, not—”

The door opened, and a nurse came in.  “Henry Haddock?  Astrid Hofferson?  The doctor can see you now.”

Stoick waved to them.  “Get yourselves checked over.  I’ll continue working this end.  You two focus on healing.”

They nodded—Astrid felt a wave of pain from her abused neck—and left with the nurse, who brought them to a small examination room with a chair outside. 

“Now, which of you will go first?” the nurse asked.  “Henry—”

“We go in together,” Astrid said firmly.

“Miss Hofferson that’s—”

“No,” she said flatly, holding onto his hand tightly.

“Miss Hofferson—” the nurse began again.

“No.  The last time I let him out of my sight, it ended with my father beating him to a pulp.  _No_ ,” she said resolutely.

“Hmm, well.  But it’s somewhat complicated, as you two are both underage and—”  She paused as Hiccup held up his free hand. 

“Would it help if we defined each other as next of kin for this…” he trailed off, glancing at Astrid as if he was suddenly worried that he might have upset her. 

Instead, she beamed at him.  “Yes.  He’s my boyfriend… and the father of my baby.  We’re next of kin, and I’d like to stay with him.”

The nurse shrugged, made a note on the clipboard, and said, “All right then.  Head on in.”  She opened the door and lead them inside.  Hiccup sat on the chair while Astrid hopped up on the examination table and winced as her neck complained.

“You okay?” he asked her with concern.

She gave a very slight nod.  “Yeah.  Neck hurts.  I _wonder_ why,” she said sarcastically. 

Hiccup sighed in pained agreement.  “Yeah.  It’s almost as if you had your neck yanked on today!”

“Yeah.”  She massaged at the sore muscles for a moment, and then her phone buzzed again, as it had been doing nearly constantly. 

She checked the messages and sighed.  “It’s a feeding frenzy.”  More threats at Hiccup, more incredulous disbelief that she would date _him,_ inquiries as to what happened…

And now it looked like someone had spread the story that they’d been arrested in the hospital.

“Remind me to murder Ruff and Tuff in some lingering fashion later on,” she said dryly, looking over one message from a classmate that seemed to be convinced that Hiccup had beaten her and was on his way to jail. 

“Noted,” he said dryly.  He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shrugged.  “I don’t like hospitals, especially this one.”  He motioned towards his left leg.  “Been here too much to have happy memories of them.”

She grimaced.  “Got it.  So… while we’re waiting… damage control on Tuff’s little prank?”

“That sounds like a great idea.  How do you want to do it?”

“Well… the truth seems like a good place to start,” she said.  “I’m not embarrassed by you.  Fuck, I wish that I had been brave enough to go public with our relationship months ago.”

“If you’d done that, your dad would have beaten me up, kicked me out of your life, and shipped you off to a nunnery on the Continent by the weekend,” Hiccup pointed out with a small smile.  “This worked. You had… _have_ a safe place to stay… I mean… if you want to…” he ducked his head.

She felt her heart melt and hopped off the examination table as lightly as she could manage.  “Hiccup… was that an offer to stay with you?”

He gave a very quick, hesitant nod.  “Please don’t be mad.”

“Why would I be mad?  Hiccup… I… gods, that means so much to me.  _Thank you._   I… I appreciate it more than I can say,” she said, sounding like she was choking on something in her throat.  “I accept!”

He glanced up at her, smiling slightly.  “Thanks.  So… damage control?”

She shrugged.  “Ideas?  Let’s leave the pregnancy out of it for the moment?” she suggested.  “Too easily… misinterpreted.”

Hiccup nodded.  “And since everyone seems to think that I slapped you…” he stood up and reached hesitantly for her face.  “May I?”

She nodded. 

He gently laid his hand on her face, over the aching bruise.  “Yeah.  My hands are smaller than your dad’s.  Take a picture, would you?”

It was a little awkward, but they managed, and they were so close to each other that she took the moment to give him a peck on the cheek.

Then the door opened and the doctor came in. 

“Ahem,” he said humorlessly, and they almost jumped apart.  “What’s this?”

“Uh, sorry, Doctor Carlsson.  Just a—”

“Yes, yes.  Please, Henry.  Up on the exam table, please.  And who is this?”

Hiccup motioned towards her.  “This is Astrid Hofferson my, uh, next-of-kin and girlfriend.  She also needs to be checked over.  Her dad…” he trailed off and glanced at her.

“Took exception to our relationship,” Astrid said firmly.  “Strenuously.  And violently.”  She pointed to the bruise on her face.  “So the police will need copies of your report as evidence.”

The doctor sighed.  “Wonderful.  Domestic violence.  All right then, let’s get to it.”

#

The examination was quick, thorough, and only somewhat mortifying.  It wasn’t as if Astrid hadn’t seen him naked before, much less just topless, although she hissed at  the sight of the bruises growing on his back.  At least Hiccup was more than a little desensitized to the impersonal intimacy of a hospital setting. 

Also thankfully neither of them needed stitches—some liquid bandage was enough to close up the gash in the back of Hiccup’s head, and he had some big and nasty bruises that were going to be sore for days.  No broken bones, however. 

As the doctor checked Hiccup over, Astrid was bent over her phone, typing, and when he was done and it was her turn, she handed it off to him. 

He found a drafted social media post that was a brutally straightforward summary of their relationship.  How long they’d been together, why they’d hidden it, and how they’d been right to do so, given the fact that her dad had left the bruise on her face—which, compared with Hiccup’s hand outline on the included picture that they’d just taken, clearly hadn’t been done by him.  No details about the intimate part of their relationship, thankfully, but there was enough in there—like how they’d used their study sessions for the Highers as dates—that it was definitely going to make her father blow his top if and when he got his hands on a copy.  But also no mention of her pregnancy.  That bombshell was apparently being held in reserve. 

He made a few tweaks to the wording, and waited for Astrid to be done with her examination. 

Doctor Carlsson was quick and efficient, however, so her examination likewise didn’t take long.  She was also less battered than Hiccup, with the worst damage being the strained muscles in her neck.  She was given an abbreviated neck brace, a prescription for a bottle of anti-inflammatory pills that would be safe for her to take with the pregnancy, and a strict admonishment to avoid moving her neck until she felt better.

Once she was done with that, he handed the phone off to her.  She reviewed his changes, and, with a savage smile, posted it to her social media account. 

Hiccup felt like he was falling through the air as he watched her, from over her shoulder, write a mass reply to her immediate circle of friends.

_Ladies,_

_As you might have noticed, there_ might _be some rumors going around.  Let me tell you the truth.  Yes, I’m dating Henry.  No, he didn’t hit me.  My father did.  Details at the link.  Spread it around, would you?_

_-Astrid_

He exhaled at length as she hit _send._

As they walked down the hallways to the gynecologist’s office, holding hands, he muttered to her, “The cat isn’t just out of the bag, it’s gotten into the pound and preaching about the benefits of staging a revolution.”

She laughed.  “I see no reason why the Catnip Treason should ever be forgot.”

He grinned at her; it was banter like that which really brought home why he loved her.  And even if she didn’t love him, there was no doubt that they were friends, and good ones.  And he’d be happy with that. 

They continued down the hallway, bantering until they reached the gynecologist’s office.  Then they halted outside, suddenly awkward.  “So… um… here we are,” Hiccup said.  “Shall we?”

She nodded.  With both of them taking deep steeling breaths in unison, they opened the door. 

Inside was a small sterile hallway, very institutional, much like the rest of the hospital, with a woman manning a reception desk just inside.

Hiccup went up and, with barely a crack in his voice, identified the two of them, and was directed down the hall and into one of the examination rooms. 

The doctor was actually fairly quick, and showed up after they’d barely gotten themselves settled in.  She was a woman about Stoick’s age, Hiccup had to guess, with a nametag reading _Phlegma,_ and a no-nonsense demeanor.  She was holding a clipboard in her hand and peering at it as she entered.

“Astrid Hofferson?” she asked, looked at Astrid, and did a double-take.  “Oh my Frigga.  It _is_ you.”

#

Astrid blinked.  “Do I know you?”

The doctor snorted.  “In a manner of speaking.  I just haven’t seen you in sixteen years, if you get my drift.”

“Uh…”  Astrid stared at the doctor, and said, “I don’t… Oh, gods.”

“Yeah, I delivered you.”  She turned and gave Hiccup a mildly hostile look.  “And who are you?”

“Henry Haddock,” he said as charmingly as he could manage. 

“Valka and Stoick’s boy.  I remember you.  You were a premie and a hard birth.”  She turned back to Astrid, her hands on her hips.  “When I saw the name on the paperwork, I was certain that it had to be someone else with the same name.”

“Why…?” Astrid asked weakly. 

“Because I remember your father, girl.  And I’ll leave it at that.  So, according to this,” she waved the clipboard, “you are pregnant?”  Her eyebrows rose slightly.  “I bet your father isn’t happy.”

“No, he’s not.  See?” she said, and twisted at her waist, the neck brace keeping her from moving her neck too much.  “He did this and this,” she pointed to the bruise and her neck. 

“Hm.”  Dr. Phlegma scowled.  “I can’t say that I’m surprised…”  As she and Hiccup shared a look, she said, “So, what are we doing?”

Astrid swallowed against a sudden lump in her throat.  “I… I need to have it confirmed that I’m pregnant.  And how the baby is doing.  And that Hic… Henry here is the father.”

“Is there doubt?” Phlegma asked professionally, as she started to curtly grab various arcane devices out of miscellaneous drawers. 

She shook her head.  “I’ve only been with Hic… Henry here.  But—”

“Then why?  To make certain?”

“Pretty much,” Hiccup said.  “Since this is likely to end up going to court or something.”

Dr. Phlegma snorted.  “All right then.  Astrid, I guess the easiest way to do this is with an ultrasound.  Do you know roughly how far along you are?”

She shared a glance with Hiccup, who was turning scarlet, and then turned back to the doctor.  “My last period was eight weeks ago… and we used the bad condom seven weeks ago.”

“I see.  And you’ve used one of the OTC tests already?”

Astrid nodded.  “Yeah.  That’s what started this.  My father caught me with it.”

Phlegma’s nostrils flared, and she turned to a nearby cart with a computer monitor standing on top of it.  “I see.  Well then.  Lie back.  We’ll do a quick ultrasound.”  She turned and looked slightly apologetic.  “It will have to be transvaginal, though.”

Astrid nodded and sighed.  “I’ll live.  Just do it.”

“All right.”  The doctor prepped, and Astrid did as she was told, and managed not to yelp when the cold sensor and the even chillier jelly were gently slid inside her.  Hiccup held her hand as the doctor fiddled around for a minute, her motions speaking of long practice, and then she had something up on the screen.  “And there we go.  Yes.  I would call that a seven-week embryo.”  She pointed to a round blob on the screen.  “It is about seven millimeters across… and that…” she pointed to a slight blip of motion, “is the heartbeat.”

Astrid started at the screen, and then jumped slightly as she felt a tear slide down her cheek.  Hiccup’s hand gripped hers, and she squeezed back.

It wasn’t much… but it was theirs.

 

 


	7. Chapter 6: This Burden Came To Me

**Chapter 6: This Burden Came To Me**

Hiccup stared in awe at the monitor screen, even as he lost some feeling in his fingertips from how tightly Astrid was squeezing his hand. 

That tiny little lump was…  was, well, it was potential. 

When his dad had foisted him off on their neighbors and friends, and had never seemed to be there when he was growing up, he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t make those same mistakes.

He squeezed Astrid’s hand. 

He would be there for her.

And, if she wanted to have their child… he’d be there for it too.

Hiccup listened with half-an-ear as the doctor worked on her, setting up an appointment for checkups into the future, assuring them that the embryo looked normal and had implanted in a safe place, and taking samples of blood and cervical cells, and sending Astrid off to the bathroom to give a urine sample. 

While she was gone, Phlegma turned to him.  “So.  Henry.  I’m going to violate my medical ethics here for a moment, but you seem fairly attached to her.  Do you love her?”

Hiccup nodded.  “More than anything.”

“Good.  _Don’t let her father get his hands on her._ ”

“Of course!  Hel, I took a beating to keep that from happening just a few hours ago!”

“Good.  Because Astrid’s mother should have been able to have more children, and was pregnant after her… but they were all girls.  Do you understand me?”

Hiccup stared at her, his eyes feeling like they would pop out and go rolling along the floor.  “WHAT?”

“I won’t share my suspicions… but I will mention, strictly offhand, that Mrs. Hofferson had three other pregnancies after Astrid was born.  She ‘lost’ all of them, after they were sexed.  Understood?”

Hiccup swallowed.  “Yeah.  I got it.”

“And just to emphasize this… Mister Haddock, if you tell anyone that I just told you that, I could lose my job, and my license to practice medicine.  You didn’t hear it from me, understood?”

“Then why tell me?” he asked plaintively. 

“Because I remember when you were born.  And when Astrid was born.  I’ve been Berk’s primary obstetrician for nearly twenty-five years.”

“That’s not an answer,” Hiccup insisted.

“Yes it is.  You just don’t see it as one,” she said.  “Now… as for determining paternity… we can’t yet.”

Hiccup cocked his head to the side.  “Why not?” 

“I’ll wait for Ms. Hofferson to get back, but, in short… is there any doubt that you’re the father?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “No way in Helheim.”

“Then wait.  Because right now, there’s too much risk to the embryo.  We’d have to get a sample.  It’s the size of a blueberry, and much more delicate.”

Hiccup swallowed and nodded.  “I got it.”

The door opened at that moment, and Astrid walked in, a sealed plastic jar filled with liquid in her hand.  “Here.  Need anything else?” she said wryly. 

“No, that will do.  I’ll have them sent over to the lab for analysis.  As I was just discussing with your partner here,” she said, and Hiccup felt a moment of terrified glee at the realization that, yes, he was Astrid’s partner now, “we can’t do a paternity test just yet.  Not without risk to the embryo, especially in light of the fact that Henry here isn’t denying or questioning paternity.  So I’d advise that you wait; there are non-invasive options available, but we have to wait for the pregnancy to develop further.”

Astrid drummed her fingers on on her arm.  “What sort of options?”

Hiccup listened and took notes as the doctor described the options.  They could wait and go to a specialist, who would use a needle to take a very small cell sample for direct genetic comparison.  Or they could wait another week or two, and use a new option—testing for the genes of the fetus using cell-free fetal DNA, as a small portion of the fetus’s DNA would start appearing in Astrid’s system over the next few weeks.  Within the next month or so, they could do a blood draw, ship the sample off to the lab, and get confirmation that way. 

But, since he wasn’t rebutting or denying that he was the father—and was actually helping and supporting Astrid—the doctor advised that they wait before engaging in either option.  “See if the court even needs it,” she finished.  “If they don’t, then don’t bother, unless we need to check for birth defects.  Beyond that, I think that we’re done here, and I have more patients to see.  Best of luck to both of you.”  With that, she left them in the exam room. 

Hiccup looked at Astrid, who was looking at the printout of the ultrasound with an inscrutable expression on her face.

“You all right?” he asked gently. 

She picked up the printout, with the small lump of potential highlighted with a marker, and tucked it under her arm.  “Yeah.  I… I’m just sore, tired, and… and it just became more _real,_ you know?”

Hiccup glanced at the printout and nodded.  “Yeah.  C’mon.  Let’s go home.  I’m hungry, I’m betting you’re starving, and I bet Dad’s not done yet with his legal maneuvering.”

She paused, and then came over and hugged him.  “Okay.”

#

Astrid and Hiccup found Stoick in the same office that they’d left him in, and settled in on the chairs.  Her boyfriend’s father was deep in a conversation on the phone, and, lacking context—and Astrid lacking a great deal of the legal jargon being thrown about—she tuned him out.  Instead, she turned to Hiccup and leaned against him. 

She glanced at the clock on the wall; it was early afternoon.  A day ago, she’d been pacing her room, ‘enjoying’ mood swings between bursting out in tears and screaming in fury as she had stared at the locked door.  It had taken her another few hours before she’d managed to calm herself and come to the realization that her best option was to run for it.  She’d hated that thought at the time.  She never ran from anything.  She was strong, stubborn, and willful.  But, as she’d sat there in her room, she had come to the painful, aching realization that she had no leverage, no resources, and no control over her own life.

So she’d sat, thought, come up with a plan, and executed it with what she’d had available. 

And now she was here.  With Hiccup, and his dad, who, while terrifying to be sure, had turned out to be much more supportive than Hiccup had led her to believe he was.  And she felt safer and more loved here than she ever had before in her life. 

She picked up his hand and started to stroke his fingers with her thumb.  He looked at her, his expression soft, and laid back in the chair.  She had the distinct feeling that if he were a cat, he’d be purring.

Finally, Stoick finished his call and turned to them.  “All right.  Lass.  I got a judge who is a friend of mine to issue a temporary Non-Molestation Order on your behalf, pending review of the evidence next week.  Your father is not allowed to harass you, and if he does, it’s a criminal offense.  So we’ll get that before we head home.  Second, I checked in with the Academy.  Your tuition was already paid up through the end of the term, and I told the Dean what the situation was.”  He scowled.  “You did know that your father is one of the big donors, though?”

She nodded.  “Yeah.  He’s a legacy, and always going on about how I have to uphold the family honor and tradition.”

“Aye, not surprised.  So, I don’t know what he’s going to try there, but I imagine that it’ll be something.”  He scowled and sighed.  “On top of that… Lass.  I’m working as your advocate, but right now, I’m working strictly defensively, trying to keep him from hurting you more.  But we need to talk about what you want from here on out.”

She felt a chill.  “What do you mean?”

“There are a number of issues that need to be dealt with—and I will admit that this is not my area of specialty.  But from what I do know, there are decisions that have to be made,” he said.

“Such as?” Astrid asked, a feeling of nausea that she was pretty sure wasn’t caused by morning sickness rising in her gut.

Stoick started to tick off on his fingers.

“Do you want to try to seek emancipation from your parents?  Do you want to go home, or stay someplace else—”

“I don’t want to go back there!” she blurted, and clutched at Hiccup’s hand hard enough that he yelped.  She shot him an apologetic look, and blurted out, “Sorry!  Uh… I don’t.  I don’t ever want to go back there except to maybe rescue any stuff of mine that he hasn’t destroyed.  And I can find a place with friends—Anna is off visiting her family back in Norway, I could crash in her room at the Academy and not…”

Hiccup twisted next to her and she noticed that his eyes were wide and hurt.  She froze and realized what she just said—and remembered that he’d already offered and she’d accepted.  She gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and then said softly, “I didn’t want to assume that your dad would…” she turned and looked at Stoick, “but… can… can I stay with, with you?”

Stoick smiled at her.  “Lass.  Of course you can.”  His smile shifted slightly into a lopsided smirk.  “Certainly it’s a bit irregular… but you’re family now.”  Hiccup looked like Yule had come two months early, and hugged her.

The casual acceptance from his father, and Hiccup’s loving embrace broke her in a way that her father’s disappointment never could.  She wept into Hiccup’s shoulder, with great hacking sobs and snot flowing from her nose, and tears dripping down her face.  She looked up to meet Stoick’s eyes as he looked at the two of them fondly.

Then his phone rang.  Stoick slumped, rolled his eyes, and answered it.  “Aye, Gobber?  Ah, she signed it?  Good.  One moment.”  He lowered the phone with his hand on the mouthpiece.  “You two done here?” 

Astrid gave as large a nod as she dared with her head in the neckbrace.  Hiccup also made a noise of agreement. 

“Aye.  Then let us head,” he looked directly at Astrid, “home.”

She burrowed deeper into Hiccup’s side, and noticed that her earlier nausea was gone—and in its place was a great sense of bubbling excitement, making her feel as if she’d been overfilled with some effervescent liquid, sloshing back and forth and bubbling with foam. 

She had a home again.  A real one, not a gilded cage.  She and Hiccup rose from their chairs as Stoick returned his phone to his mouth.  “Aye.  We’re on our way.  Be there in ten.”  He turned to Hiccup.  “If I ordered takeout, would you take offense?” he asked with a small smile.

Hiccup snorted.  “I’m a bread-making Viking, dad.  I’ve got some fixings in the freezer that I can throw together.”

Astrid perked up even more somehow.  “Fixings?  For what?”  After two delicious meals from him already, she was hooked, and knew it. 

Stoick laughed.  “Well, I guess that answers that.”

“All sorts of things.  I tend to make up batches of stuff and toss it into the freezer for later,” Hiccup said.  “What would you like?”  He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.  “You want it, I’ll try to make it.”

“Oooh.  Well, you’re hurt, so what do you have on hand?” she asked as they walked to the car, and Stoick informed whoever it was on the other end of the phone—Gobber?—that they’d be there shortly and that Hiccup would be cooking. 

Hiccup started to list off what he had in stock as they drove… home. 

Gods.  _Home._   And it didn’t mean what it had meant before.  Now it meant… love.  With Hiccup Haddock at her side.

All she had to do now was tell him.

#

As Hiccup walked into the house, hand in hand with Astrid, he heard an appreciative whistle come from the side, in the living room.

Resisting the urge to cover his face with his hands, he turned to see Gobber lounging on one of the chairs, a manila envelope on the coffee table in front of him.  “Aye there, Hiccup!  So, this is your lovely lass?”  Gobber grinned, displaying the ostentatious gold tooth that he kept, despite his dentist wanting to replace it with a more demure false tooth. 

Hiccup sighed, made introductions, and went to preheat the oven and get his ingredients out of the refrigerator and freezer.  Astrid came with him into the kitchen.  She seemed nervous about something as she kept dry-washing her hands, and, with a smile, he started to hand her ingredients to put on the counter, which made her smile. 

He felt that he could spend his life making her smile.  She was normally gorgeous, but when she smiled, especially at him, it was like the sun coming out and a choir of Valkyries singing about the beauty that could be found on Midgard.  But he rather doubted that she had any such reactions to him.  Fond exasperation at his jokes and sass seemed to be more typical from her.  But that was okay.  Even if she didn’t love him, he would always count today as one of the best days in his life—saving the woman he loved from a monster.  Even if that monster was her own father, and the extent of his ‘saving’ had been to hide her and get beaten up. 

He wondered what she was nervous about as he caught her wringing her hands again.  After a moment’s thought, he decided that it was probably her father.  That would be enough to make anyone nervous.

He came over to the countertop with an armful of ingredients, put them down, and looked at her.  She was leaning over the brushed metal of the countertop, hands braced on the edge, her head as down as it could be in the neck brace.  He came up behind her and made a gentle questioning noise.  She affirmed, and he put his arms around her.  “You okay?” he asked.  “Your dad… and everything?”

“It’s… it’s been one _Hel_ of a day…” she said softly.  “And I’ve come to realize a lot of things.”

“Such as?” he asked.  “If you want to talk about it, that is.”

“Oh, I want to.  I’m just finding it hard to say it.”  She turned in his grasp and looked up at him.  “Hiccup, I—”

There was suddenly a pounding at the door, and they both froze. 

Slowly, almost robotically, they turned in unison towards the door and started walking towards it, slowly and hesitantly. 

“Haddock!  Open up in there!” Mister Hofferson’s bellow came through the door.  “I know you’re in there!”

Gobber’s distinctive steps sounded on the wood.  “Stoick, may I?”

His dad chuckled harshly.  “By all means.  I had you run around enough for those documents.  Go ahead.” 

Gobber chuckled as Hiccup and Astrid peered around the corner of the door that led from the kitchen into the living room and the front door.  Holding the manila envelope in his prosthetic hand, Gobber pulled open the door with his flesh-and-blood hand and said guilelessly, “Hallo there!  And who might you be?”

Hiccup felt his eyes widen when he saw the man in the nice suit and two police officers standing behind Mister Hofferson. 

“And you are?” Astrid’s father said flatly.

“Ah.  I asked first,” Gobber said.

“I’m Cameron Hofferson, and—”

Gobber slapped him in the chest with the manila envelope.  “Cameron Hofferson, I’m Gabriel ‘Gobber’ Blanche, and these are a restraining order for Henry Haddock and a Non-Molestation Order for Astrid Hofferson.  You have been served.”

Behind Gobber, Stoick rumbled, “And witnessed.”

“Have a nice day,” Gobber said cheerfully, and slammed the door in Hofferson’s startled face, and locked it.

He and Stoick looked at each other, grinned and burst out laughing.  “Oh, gods, I’ve never really gotten to do that before!  What a rush!” Gobber exulted. 

Astrid gingerly raised her hand.  “Can someone fill in the non-lawyers in the room with what just happened?”

“I just gave your dad a pair of orders that he’s not allowed to come within a quarter kilometer of either you or Hiccup,” Gobber said.  “That’s what serving means—you’ve been given the court order.”

“And since I witnessed it,” Stoick said, “I can testify in court if necessary that he received them.  If he violates them now…”  He trailed off, a note of smug anticipation in his voice. 

Hiccup reluctantly detached himself from Astrid’s side and went over to the window to peer out through the curtains “He’s arguing with his lawyer…” he said.  “Oh wow, he looks like he’s going to pop a blood vessel.  Hey, Astrid, any history of heart conditions he might have?”

“No, he’s disgustingly healthy,” she responded sarcastically, still standing by the kitchen door.  “Runs marathons, does martial arts…  and looks down on anybody that can’t keep up.”

“Pity,” Gobber said, exaggerated disappointment in his voice. 

Hiccup kept watching.  “And now his lawyer is showing the papers to the cops… they’re talking… talking… annnnnnnd they just saw me.”  He waved and made a shooing motion.  “Oh, wow, Astrid, purple is _not_ a good color on your dad…  And his cop buddies are holding him back… and he just broke the hold one of them had on him, and… okay, damn, he’s calming down.”

Hiccup jumped as suddenly there was a light touch on his shoulder, and he jumped in surprise, and whirled to see Astrid there.  Together, they bent again and looked out through the gap in the curtains to watch the police officers work to calm down her father.  Hiccup could feel her arm resting on his back and luxuriated in it, even as he gave a running commentary to the rest of the room.  Much to Hiccup’s disappointment, Mr. Hofferson didn’t get tasered or anything, even after he took a swing at one of them.  Meanwhile, his lawyer was making calming motions and obviously talking loudly.

Eventually, the drama played out.  Hofferson got into his car, the police got into theirs, and they drove off—and the lawyer took a moment to compose himself and went up to their door. 

“Incoming,” Hiccup said.

“We’ll talk to him,” Stoick said.  “You two stay back and don’t say anything.”  He went up to the door and opened it just as the other lawyer was about to knock.  “Hello Alvin.  How are you doing?  Representing an abusive parent—that’s a new one for you.”

“You don’t have a right to talk, Stoick,” Alvin said flatly.  “Or have you seen Henry for more than a week out of the last month?”

Hiccup cringed, and suddenly found himself being hugged by Astrid. 

“Regardless, well done on the Non-Molestation Order.  It took some doing, but I got it through his head—and those two cops’ heads—that the worst thing he could do right now was his original plan to march in here and take his daughter back.”

“Aye.  If they didn’t arrest him for breaking the order, I’d make certain that their careers were sunk,” Stoick confirmed.  “So, let’s have it out.  What does he want?”

“He wants his daughter back.  Says that you kidnapped her,” Alvin said.

Astrid blurted out, “Oh, fuck that!” Everyone’s heads turned to her.  “He beat me!  He beat Hiccup!  And I walked here my damn self!  Nobody kidnapped me!”

Alvin shrugged.  “All right then.  I still have to represent my client.  But I’ll see to it that he drops that approach.  And that he doesn’t come near you.  Beyond that…”  He turned and looked directly at Astrid.  “Miss, is there any chance you’d be willing to come home?”

Stoick held up a hand.  “Astrid, don’t answer that.  That’s my advice as your counsel.”  He turned and looked at Alvin.  “You know how this goes now.”

Alvin shrugged.  “Can’t blame me for trying.  So, should I bother filing conflict of interest charges here, or do you already have a way out of that?”

Stoick smiled, and it gave Hiccup chills.  “Have fun wasting your time, Al.”

“Right.  Well, I’ve got your number, and you’ve got mine.  I’m going to get off this stoop now, as you haven’t invited me in,” Alvin said.

Hiccup snorted.  “Sorry, all out of stakes and garlic,” he snarked, which made Astrid give him a smile.  Alvin gave him an odd look that was half-approving, half-irritated, and left with a wave of his hand. 

Stoick closed the door behind him, and said, “Well, this’ll be interesting now.  Alvin’s a sharp operator.”  He shrugged.  “Lass.  Why don’t you go and relax a bit.  Gobber and I will do some digging and see what your options are.”

She nodded and took Hiccup by the hand.  “Come on.  We have cooking to do, and I need you to teach me.”

Hiccup ignored Gobber’s wolf-whistle as he and Astrid left the room, and sighed in relief when he heard him and Stoick close the door to the office. 

He turned to Astrid once he heard them start to talk, their conversation distant and muffled by the thick oak door.  “You okay?”

She nodded.  “That… went much better than I expected.  I… I guess that I’ll have to talk to him at some point, but not today.  Thank the gods… and your father.  And… Gobber?”

“My dad’s old friend and partner in legal practice,” Hiccup said with a sigh.  “But while he’s lewd, crude, and can curdle milk by singing, he’s a good man.”

“What happened to his hand and leg?” she asked, looking curious.  He’d told her what had happened to his leg when they’d first undressed each other. 

“Military service—a bomb or something, I think,” Hiccup said, and turned to the cutting board.  “Now, as you’re my favorite violent Valkyrie, I suppose that we should start with how to use kitchen knives.” 

She laughed and accepted the diversion.  “Okay.  So, how does one hold a kitchen knife, sir chef?”

“Well, you put your thumb on top of the blade, like this,” he demonstrated, using an awkward—to him—right-handed grip for her to mirror.  “That gives you more control and leverage, instead of wrapping your thumb around the handle.”

He started to slice the vegetables to demonstrate, using his left hand to cut them, and she watched, a peaceful smile on her face. 

Then she gave a try.  He had to correct her grip several times, but she got the hang of it by the end of the fifth mushroom.  Then she put down the knife and stepped over to him.  She reached up as carefully as she could with the neckbrace inhibiting her movements, and pulled him down for a kiss.  And it was a long one; she nibbled on his lip, as her arm slipped around his back and gently stroked his spine.  Then she broke it gently, releasing his lip with a small pop, more felt than heard.  “Hiccup?  Henry,” she said, correcting herself, and looked at him straight in the eyes, her expression acutely vulnerable.  “I wanted to say first… just how obscenely grateful I am for all of this.  And that, well, that—”

The landline phone rang.

They both turned and looked at it.  “Oh, for fuck’s sake,” she said.  “What is it?”

“It’s probably for dad,” he said.  “Ignore it.” His heart was pounding, wondering what it was that she had to say to him.  He was afraid that she was going to say that she liked him, but as soon as this was resolved, she’d be leaving him. 

Then his dad called from the office.  “Henry!  It’s for Astrid!”

“What?!” they both said together.  “Who would call me here?” she asked plaintively. 

“And on the landline?” Hiccup asked, surprised.  “How retro.”

Hesitantly, Astrid reached over and picked it up.  “Hello?”

 


	8. Chapter 7: And It's Laid It’s Home Inside

 

**Chapter 7: And It's Laid It’s Home Inside**

“Astrid, when you’re in an emergency, _check your damn phone!_ ” Heather’s voice came through the earpiece.  “I’ve been trying to reach you for an hour!”

Astrid convulsively pulled out her phone, flicked on the display, and slumped.  _Thirty_ missed calls.  “I’m so sorry, it’s been nuts!”

“I bet, but, _gods_ girl, you scared the shit out of me.  Um… are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Astrid confirmed.  “I’m at Hic… Henry’s, and they scared my father off with some legal work.”

“Okay.  I’ve been doing damage control, and I’ve got Merida, Cami and… Ruff with me.  And, yes, she owes you an apology.  Can we come by?”

She glanced up at Hiccup.  “Heather and some friends want to do the war council thing.  Is it okay if they come here?”

Hiccup mutely nodded in a clear and exaggerated fashion as he pulled open the refrigerator and started taking out more ingredients. 

“He says that it’s okay.”

“We’ll be there in five, maybe ten.”

“Okay.”  She turned to Hiccup, who was looking antsy.  “Can we…”  She shrugged a bit awkwardly.  “They’re going to want to know everything.” 

Hiccup nodded, and she couldn’t really read his expression.  “The famous ‘girl talk’?”

She nodded back.  “Yeah.  Um… I don’t want to leave you out, but it would be really awkward—”

Hiccup held up a hand.  “Astrid.  I’ll cook, and you can talk with your friends about our sex life and get the record straight.  It’s fine.”  He shifted a little uncomfortably.  “But please ask them to keep the teasing to a minimum?”

She nodded and looked him over.  His bruises were starting to darken, and she just wanted to kiss him, drag him off to bed, confess that she loved him, and fall asleep in his arms. 

Was that so much to ask?

But instead, they busied themselves for guests, and a few minutes later, a car pulled up along the curb and disgorged her friends before driving off. She greeted them at the door, they came in and they were shortly ensconced in the obscenely comfortable couches and armchairs of the Haddock house’s lounge. 

Astrid hadn’t been in here until now, and again there was a marked contrast between this room and that soulless living room.  Hidden behind thick curtains over the doorways—almost tapestries—the furniture in here was old but well kept, featuring knit and plush throws over overstuffed black leather furniture, landscape paintings on the wall, and a modern flatscreen in an entertainment center that had clearly been designed and built back when TVs had been more cube-shaped.  The coffee table and entertainment center all had more Norse motifs carved into the wood, these being runes and carvings of dragons.  The deep rug at their feet was woven with a pattern of heroic Vikings on longboats fighting dragons.  A fireplace—which looked like it would work with both wood and gas—occupied a nearby corner that jutted into the room, and there was a wide stone shelf around it, the edges of which were carved with more Norse motifs.  More bookcases and display cases lined the back wall, and she resolved to take a closer look at their contents later.

And when she sat down on one of the couches, she also resolved to make love to Hiccup on it at some point.  Gods, it was comfortable!

Pushing the image of the two of them naked and their limbs entwined on the overstuffed sofa to the back of her mind, she turned and looked at her friends; Merida and Ruffnut were seated together on the loveseat, while Heather had slumped into the Stoick-sized armchair, one of her legs dangling over the arm, looking like she was contemplating burrowing into the cushions for the winter; meanwhile, Astrid sat on one arm of L-shaped sofa, while Cami sprawled herself across the other. 

Astrid looked around at her friends, realized that she was sitting stiffly, like they were here to interrogate her.  She loosened up her posture and sat forward more aggressively, looking across at Ruffnut.  “So, first point I guess is… Ruff?  What the _Hel_ were you _thinking?_ ”

Ruffnut shrugged apologetically, looking pained.  “I thought that it was a joke!”

“A _joke!?”_ Astrid sputtered, coming half out of her seat.  “A _joke!?”_

“Well, yeah,” Ruffnut said, looking a bit aggrieved.  “I mean you?  Kissing Hiccup Haddock?  Like that?  It _had_ to be a joke!”  She looked down.  “Or at least I thought that it was until Heather messaged me.”  She mumbled, “I’m sorry.  Please don’t kill me.”

Merida snorted and patted Ruff’s hand.  “She won’t.  She knows that I’d be pissed off.”

Astrid rolled her eyes.  “Aside from how I’m your friend, Ruff, and you know I don’t like pranks… didn’t the fact that my father was out looking for me last night make you think at all?  I mean, you sent me a message and everything to see if I was okay!”

Ruff winced.  “I know, and I’m sorry!”

Astrid glared at her, and then took a deep breath.  Screaming at Ruffnut wouldn’t fix anything.

Merida spoke up as Astrid calmed herself.  “And she immediately starting signal boosting your ‘here’s what’s going on’ post, if that counts for anything.”

Astrid gave them a flat look, and then nodded.  “Ruff, I forgive you… if you promise to help clean up the mess you just made.”

Ruffnut nodded enthusiastically.  “Okay!  And, besides, Tuff already got chewed up by Dagur for it, and I’ll have to help put him back together.”

Astrid shrugged at that, and then a bit of lingering guilt made her ask,  “How bad?”

“He’ll heal within a week or so, and Dagur didn’t break or even sprain anything!” Ruff reported with a smile and an eyeroll.  “He looks like a raccoon at the moment, though.”

Cami scowled.  “Yeah.  I’m not saying that he didn’t deserve it for taking the pic in the first place—Odin knows that Tuff needs to get his ass kicked regularly anyway.  But we’re getting a bit off topic.  We’re here to discuss your boyfriend, not mine.”  She pointed to Astrid—and her bruise.  “I read what you posted, but I need to hear it from you.  Seriously?  You’re dating Hiccup Haddock!?”

Astrid met Cami’s stare with a flat look of her own.  “Yes.”

“But… but… he’s a nerd!  A scrawny brain trust!”

Merida snorted.  “And Tuff’s in theater, Cami.  Stones.  Glass houses.”

“Says the triathlon athlete who’s dating another theater girl,” Cami snorted.  “But, no, seriously, Ast… why _Hiccup_?  Because he was the only guy you could get?”

Astrid scowled at Cami, but before she could respond, Heather held up a hand.  “Hang on, hang on!”  Everyone looked at her.  “Okay.”  She took a deep breath, and said, “I’ve been in on this since it started, but I’m missing bits.  But let’s get the biggest issue out of the way here—Astrid’s dad.”

Merida sighed.  “Good call.”  She looked at Astrid, eyeing the bruise on her cheek.  “So… how long has your dad been abusing you, and is this why you never let us stay over more than one night?”

Astrid met her eyes and nodded.  “He’s… he’s always been like this.  I’m not my own person.  I’m just his trophy of a picture-perfect life.”  She motioned to her cheek.  “This wasn’t the first time he hit me… but it’s been a very long time since he had to.”

Cami nodded, scowling.  “And you never had a boyfriend.”  She glanced at the door towards the rest of the house.  “At least, not one that we were allowed to know about.”

“Or a girlfriend, for that matter,” Ruffnut added in.  “I was starting to wonder if you were ace, like Moana.”

Astrid shook her head at the mention of the Polynesian boarding student, who was also one of her friends, currently off seeing her family during the break.  “No, I’m not.  But I wasn’t allowed.  My father has a paranoia about guys our age being interested in only getting laid, and that would make me _dirty_ in his eyes.”  She looked around the group, leaning forward.  “Remember that sleepover when you,” she turned to Cami, “‘ _forgot’_ to mention that there would be boys there, and I ended up going home?”

“Yeah.  I was so disappointed, because I hoped that—”

“I got screamed at for the better part of an hour when I got home, Cami,” Astrid said flatly.  “Told that I was bringing a disgrace on the family, that I needed to ‘be careful about Men’, that he expected better of me, that I was an ungrateful brat for not thinking on how my actions would impact him, and that I needed to think on what I’d just done.  And then he grounded me for the weekend, locked me out of the wifi, and confiscated my phone.”

Cami blinked, and bowed her head, guilt on her face.  “Oh.”

“Yeah.  ‘Oh.’  And so _that’s_ my father.”  She drummed her fingers on the table.  “So it was never about what I wanted.  Just what he wanted me to be.”

“And what’s that?” Merida asked, sympathetic.  But then, she would be.

Astrid rubbed her face.  “His trophy.  Class Valedictorian.  Star Athlete, since I don’t have a brother—and they tried.  Society Debutante.  Possible future wife to someone with an ‘Honorable’ in their name, or possibly a ‘Lord’ at the front.”  She scowled.  “For Baldr’s sake, I was only allowed to be friends with you lot because you all come with connections.”

Heather scowled.  “Well, that’s blunt.”

“It’s the truth.  You should have heard him when he found out that you were dating Eret, Heather,” Astrid said.  “He called Eret all sorts of slurs, because he’s Saami and his parents actually work, rather than figure out how to make money, like a ‘real man’ does, and said that your father was an idiot for ‘letting’ you date him.”

Ruffnut grunted angrily.  She liked Eret, and the two were friends despite him turning her down before she’d started dating Merida.  Heather, meanwhile, was looking like she was contemplating the benefits of murder.  She and Eret were still friends, even after their disastrous first and only time together. 

“I wish that you’d told me that then,” Heather said. 

Astrid huddled in on herself.  “Are you mad at me?”

Heather shook her head resolutely.  “No.  At him.  But it means that I passed up the perfect opportunity to kick him in the family jewels the other night for no good reason!”

Merida snorted.  “I can have an _accident_ with my bow if you want, Heather.  You didn’t want any siblings, did you, Ast?”

Astrid snorted harshly.  “And have them raised in that corner of Niflheim?  No.”  She drummed her fingers on her arm.  “But getting back to the point, I had to be the best, because ‘his child’ had to be the best.  What _Astrid_ wanted didn’t matter, if you catch my drift.”

Cami scowled. “I got it.”

“So I was second in the class ranking.  That wasn’t good enough.  And his solution was what it had always been—taunt me with someone better.  And I _hated_ it when he did that, rubbed my failure in my face.  So last year, when he told me that he was hiring Henry Haddock, ‘the top of the class’, to tutor me, I was fucking _pissed.”_

Heather nodded ruefully.  “I think that you would have murdered Hiccup and hidden the body if you could have.”

Merida nodded in agreement, and Cami snorted. 

“I thought that you were just about ready to chew horseshoes and spit out paperclips,” Ruffnut said.

“Yeah, probably,” Astrid admitted.  She’d been an idiot, then.  “But then, well… we were spending lots of time together.  And he became my friend.  He made me laugh, and smile, and joke…”  She looked down at her hands, remembering those early, awkward days in her relationship.  “Then, after last Winter Break, after when Snotlout had been bothering me every day… we were up in my room studying for Chemistry, and… and I kissed him.”

Cami shrugged.  “That’s sweet and all, but I’m just hearing ‘He was my only option.’”

Astrid deliberately mirrored Cami’s shrug.  “And it was that, at first.  But it’s _not_ that now.  You don’t know what he did for me.  What he _does_ for me.”

Merida inhaled sharply and then sighed.  “Is this why you’ve been so much happier over the last school year?”

Astrid nodded.  “Gods, yes.”

“I was wondering about that.  So… what happened that suddenly you’re getting beaten up by your dad and hiding out in Hiccup Haddock’s house?”

Heather interjected, “Wow, Merida.  Right for the throat much?”

Merida shrugged, sending her cloud of red curls moving in a wave.  “Hey, _something_ happened.  Did he find out or something?”

Astrid looked down at her knees, braced herself, and looked up at her group of friends.  “You have to promise that you won’t spread this part around.”

Cami was about to say something, but Heather held up a hand.  “Ast, we’re your friends.  Of course.”

“Even though you didn’t trust us before,” Cami said, sounding hurt.

“I didn’t even want to tell Heather,” Astrid said.  “She figured it out and confronted me over Spring Break when I had a… study session with Hiccup and I didn’t cancel it to spend time with her.”

Heather coughed and shrugged.  “And she had this moony-lovey look on her face that was so obvious once I realized.”

“And by ‘study session’, you mean makeouts, right?” Ruff asked with a smirk.

“Well, we did do the studying… and we made out,” Astrid admitted.

Merida nodded.  “All right.  But what happened?  Come on, Ast.  You can trust us!”

Astrid looked down at her knees again, and looked at the rug.  It looked so soft.  She kicked off her slippers and ran her toes across it, confirming her suspicion.  “You all promise not to say anything until I say it’s okay?”

“I promise,” Heather said immediately.

“I don’t want to get punched or thrown out!” Ruffnut said.  “I promise.”

“You’re my friend, Ast.  Of course,” Merida said, looking earnest. 

Cami scowled, and then after a moment with everyone looking at her, said, “Fine.  I promise.  Now spill!  What the Hel happened that you went from Miss Perfect Salutatorian with no boyfriend to hiding out in a secret boyfriend’s house—who also happens to be the valedictorian—and looking like you went to a weekend fight club!?”

Astrid hugged her arms around herself, and deeply wished that Hiccup was next to her for support.  She looked at her friends… and hoped that she wasn’t about to lose their friendship.

“I’m pregnant.”

There was a brief pause before Merida said, in a considering tone, “Well, that would do it.”

Ruffnut nodded; she didn’t seem surprised, while Cami was staring at her, speechless, her expression incredulous. 

Heather looked shocked, and after a moment of her mouth gaping like a landed fish, she said in a tone of utmost admiration, “You _slut!”_

Astrid met her best friend’s eyes, smiled slightly, and said, “Sure am.  But only for Hic—ahem, _Henry._ ”

“And so that’s why you’re here?” Cami demanded.  “Because he knocked you up?  I guess that’s better than some guys but did he think—”

Astrid cut her off with a chop of her hand.  “Cami!  He’s been nothing but supportive since we started being together.  Hel, can you imagine any _other_ guy in the school who would put up with being ignored and blanked like I had to?  We’ve been together for ten months… and _together_ for five.  And did you hear a _peep_ from him?  One _bit_ of boasting?  If anyone here is the inconsiderate one, it’s _me!_   I don’t deserve him, and I’m damn lucky to have him!” she said in a hiss.

Cami scowled.  “You really are serious about this?”

“Yes.  It _started_ as me hopping on the one guy I was actually allowed to be around unsupervised—because my father would never believe that I was interested in a nerd with a prosthetic foot and those glasses.”  She loved those glasses, and had insisted that Hiccup keep them on more than once when they’d been fucking.  “But now… I think of how _angry_ I was back when we first started tutoring and have to laugh.  Because… because I love him.” 

There, she’d said it.

Just not to him. 

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.  Seriously.  And I still need to tell him that personally.  And I don’t know if he feels the same way.  I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t.  I’ve treated him horribly.  But…” she flapped her hands slightly.  “Yeah.  He makes me laugh, he makes me smile, he doesn’t talk down to me, he helps me build myself up, he’s kind and considerate…”  She looked around at them.  “This morning, he stood up to my father when he came here, figuring that ‘my tutor’ might know.  He mouthed off to him rather than give me up, and my father attacked him!  And when I saw my father beating him up, I had to do _something!”_

Merida whistled.  “Yeah, you’re in love all right.”  She turned.  “Cami, lay off Hiccup and get on board.”

Cami snorted.  “Fine.”  Then an evil grin grew on her face.  “So… is he a _hiccup_ all over?”

Astrid scowled.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, how… _big_ is he?” Cami pressed, her grin turning positively wicked.  “Come on, Astrid, you must be dying to tell all of the fun bits!”

Astrid snorted.  “Do you really want to know?”

“Hey, this way I can compare him to Tuff—”

“La la la lah, not hearing about my brother’s sex life!” Ruffnut said, clamping her hands over her ears. 

Astrid shrugged.  “I’ll put it this way.  We fit together perfect, and I’m leaving it at that.”  She left out the rest of the thoughts and memories that came to mind on _just_ how perfectly they fit together.  It was like he’d been made with her in mind.  And while she wasn’t going to tell Cami that much, he _was_ above average, and just long enough to really…

A sudden motion in front of her snapped her attention back.  Heather was waving her hand in front of her.  “You okay?”

“Uh…” Astrid stammered. 

“Oh boy, he _is_ good,” Merida said with glee.  “She zoned out completely.”

 Astrid flushed.  “Yeah…”  She deliberately affected a languid smile and laid back in the couch.  “Mmmh.”

“Okay, now you have to share!” Heather said cheerfully and leaned in.  “Consider it repayment for how long I sat on this.”

Astrid rolled her eyes.  “All right.  What do you want to know?”

“Well, what have you two done?” she asked, grinning.

“Does he go down on you?” Ruffnut chimed in.

“Do you go down on him?” Cami asked, smirking.

Astrid sighed and looked at their eager faces for a moment before she caved.  “Yes and yes.  But for what we’ve done, we’ve been sticking to things that we could get away with without my parents noticing.  So nothing really loud, athletic, or requiring cleanup.”

“Oh, so your ass is still virgin?” Cami asked.  “I could give you some pointers from what me and Tu—”

Ruff slapped her hand over Cami’s mouth.  “And that’s enough there!”

Merida laughed.  “So, is he good with his mouth?”

Astrid gave her a smug smile, getting into the rhythm of the banter, and relaxing from her earlier tension.  “I think Freyja blessed him _specifically_ for me.”

“That’s a pretty bold claim,” Cami said, rolling her eyes.  “I mean, he was your first, right?  So it’s not like you have a lot of comparisons to make.”

“As opposed to you, who has only been with Tuff and two other guys?” Heather interjected.  “Neither of whom were good enough to make you bliss out at the memory, I’ll point out.”

“And you’ve only been with Eret,” Cami rebutted.  “Or has Justin stopped playing hard to get?”

Before Heather could reply, Astrid coughed, and they all looked back at her.  “As for Hiccup… I think that he did _research_.”

There was a pause.  Then Cami uttered a flat, “What?”

“Well, he got a _lot_ better, very quick, and part of that was watching to see how I reacted—I sometimes felt like a science experiment, with all of the variables being accounted for—but I definitely think that he looked up how to really please a girl.”  She felt smug.  How to please _her._   “I came three times last night after I got here.”

Heather blinked and then grinned, Merida giggled, and Ruffnut snorted. “Damn, girl!” Cami blurted, her earlier disapproval seemingly gone.  “I take back what I said before.”

Merida said, “I hope that you didn’t leave him hanging.”

Astrid shook her head, and exaggeratedly licked her lips.  “And the shower this morning was fun.”

“How does he taste?” Merida asked just as the curtain was pulled aside and Hiccup came in with a tray filled with steaming pizza and a stack of plates.

There was a brief shared glance, and they all burst out laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” Hiccup asked, suddenly wary.

“You pass inspection,” Cami said.  “Now gimme food!”  She hopped and snagged a plate and a slice, immediately taking a bite.  And then she paused.  “Where did you get this?” she asked around the mouthful as everyone descended on the pizza. 

Hiccup cocked his head.  “What do you mean?”

“I thought I knew every pizza place around here, but I don’t recognize this one” Cami said thickly, her mouth still full.  “Where did you get it from?  It’s some of the best I’ve had.”

There was a sudden twinkle in Hiccup’s eyes, and he shared a glance with Astrid as he put the devastated remains of the pie on the table and took a slice of his own.  “Some of the best you’ve had, eh?”

“Yeah,” Cami said, swallowing and taking another huge bite.  “And, seriously, did you order extra cheese with everything?  This is awesome.”

Heather paused as she chewed on her own slice.  “Wait.  I didn’t hear a knock or anything for the delivery.” 

Hiccup sat down next to Astrid, taking small, measured bites of his slice.  “Go ahead.  You tell them,” he said smugly.

Astrid grinned at him, turned back to her friends, and said, “It’s not delivery—or frozen.”

“Well, I know that it’s not yours,” Heather said, shuddering dramatically. 

Ruffnut nodded in enthusiastic agreement with Heather.  “I remember your ‘yaknog’ from last year.”

“Hiccup made it,” Astrid said. 

They paused.  Ruffnut’s mouth hung open for a second, revealing a mouthful of chewed pizza. 

“You made this?” Cami asked, incredulous.

Hiccup shrugged.  “Yep.  Matter of fact, there’s a second pie in the oven, so I’m going to go get that out before it burns in a minute.  Astrid, could you help me with drinks?”

She nodded, and they got off the couch together and went into the kitchen. 

“How’s it going?” he asked quietly. 

She nodded, recognizing the ploy for what it was, and appreciating it.  “It’s… it’s going okay.  They wanted to know everything, and I’m telling them, but they aren’t being judgmental much.  Mostly incredulous.  But I’m winning them over, I think.”

He smiled.  “Good.  I would hate for you to lose your friends because of me.”

She reached up, grasped his hair, and pulled him down into a quick kiss.  “If they aren’t willing to accept you as my boyfriend, then they’re not good friends.  But I appreciate that so much,” she said earnestly. 

The kitchen timer chimed, and Hiccup busied himself with getting the pizza out of the oven—he actually had one of those pizzeria boards that they used to take pizzas in and out of the oven, and he obviously knew how to use it.

She watched for a moment, love and pride swelling her heart, and then turned, got a stack of cups and a couple of bottles of cola from a cabinet, and returned to the lounge.  Her friends had demolished the entire pie, and looked up eagerly as she came in with drinks. 

“He made this?” Cami asked, her tone making it clear that she didn’t quite believe it… but she wanted to.

Astrid nodded and poured herself a glass of cola. 

“From scratch.  It wasn’t a frozen one that he prettied up?” Heather asked.

“Yep.  I watched and helped a bit,” she said.  And then a silly thought came to her head.  “And the way that you all were moaning and going ‘so good’ before…” she gave them a tight grin, and deadpanned, “the sex is better than the food.”

Her friends all glanced at each other.  Then back to her. 

Then Cami jokingly asked, “Does he have a brother?”

Merida laughed, and asked even more humorously, “How does he feel about threesomes?”

“Hey!” Ruffnut said with a smirk that showed she wasn’t serious, and swatted her girlfriend with the hand that wasn’t occupied with holding the last surviving slice of pizza as she inhaled it.

“Fine.  Foursomes,” Merida said with a laugh, pouring herself a cup of cola. 

Astrid gave her a level look.  “Not sharing.  He’s all mine.  You had your chances,” she said with a smirk.  “And while I feel like I don’t deserve him, he’s _mine._ ”

“Damn,” Merida said mildly.  “Sex better than this food?  I can’t blame you.”

“So… what do you want us to do, Ast?” Heather asked, summarily licking her fingers clean of the pizza grease. 

Astrid shrugged.  “Cover for us.  You know what’s going on, and my father is going to try to drag me back home.  Just… I’m not going to hide it any more.  For now, I’m going to be living here—”

“Whoa!” Ruffnut interrupted.  “You’re moving in with him?”

Astrid nodded.  “Where else would I go?”

“With one of us,” Cami offered without hesitation.

Astrid smiled.  “And in your house, Cami, Bertha would treat me like a guest.  Here… I’m part of the family.”

Heather took in a deep breath and nodded.  “Okay.  We’re with you, Ast.  But if you need a place to stay… don’t forget to ask.”

“I won’t,” she said. 

And then Hiccup came in with the second pizza—well, half of it; the other half had been brought to the office to feed his dad and Gobber.  That quickly vanished, and Hiccup went to bake the third pie they’d prepared, as Astrid turned back to her friends. 

“Any more questions?”

Merida, pausing from her efforts to scarf down a bit of danging cheese, turned and asked, “Yes.  Ast… are you happy?  Or do you feel like you’re being forced into this?”

Astrid sighed.  “Merida… gods yes, I’m happy.  This morning, when it all caught up and hit me… I was upstairs in the bathroom here, and do you know what he did?”

They all shook their heads.

“He didn’t yell at me, or tell me that tears are a sign of weakness, or act uncomfortable or any of that.  He walked up to me, hugged me, and supported me until I had dealt with it.  And that’s _despite_ me having dumped myself and the news that he’s going to be a father on him at midnight last night.  So, _yes,_ I’ll take the guy who can soothe his naked crying girlfriend without trying to put the moves on her, despite him having a hard-on.  But if I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it from the way that he was acting, you know?”

Heather whistled.  “Damn.”

Merida nodded.  “I’m sold.”

Cami shrugged.  “If he hurts you, I’m kicking his ass, but if he’s as good as you say, then I’d take that risk too.”

Ruffnut cocked her head.  “You’re smiling.  Good enough for me.  And I’m sorry about the thing with the picture.”

“I know.  And thanks.  Just help with going forward from here, okay?”

Ruffnut nodded.  “So… what do you want to do about the baby?”

“What about it?” Astrid asked.

“Well… are you keeping it?”

Astrid froze, and then carefully said, “I… I haven’t decided yet.  And I need to talk to Hiccup.  It might be my choice… but it’s his kid too.”

Heather jumped in.  “Then we’ll keep mum until you decide.”

“Thanks.”

Hiccup came in, holding the last of the pizza.  He put it down on the table  and grabbed a slice for himself before sitting down next to Astrid.  “So, I passed inspection, you said.  What does that mean?”

“It means that Astrid convinced us that you’re acceptable boyfriend material,” Merida said.

Ruffnut chimed in, “And that we’re not allowed to proposition you for foursomes, even if the sex is apparently better than the cooking.”

Hiccup choked.  “What?!” he sputtered.

They all laughed, and Astrid leaned forward and thumped him on the back.  “Don’t tease him.”

“Not even a little bit?” Cami asked.  “Just a little?”

“No.  Let him get used to having a girlfriend in public at all before you start the torment,” Astrid said. 

“Spoil my fun,” Cami harrumphed humorously. 

“Yep,” Astrid said, leaning up against Hiccup possessively.  “You hurt him, you answer to me.”

 


	9. Chapter 8: If I Told You What I Was

**Chapter 8: If I Told You What I Was**

Hiccup looked around the group of women in his home and tried to keep the hysterical laughter bottled up.  Never in his life would have have expected this moment; five girls in his lounge, eating what he made and saying that it was delicious, and making jokes about group sex with him. 

What.  The.  Hel. 

And his now-public girlfriend was curled up next to him in the crook of his arm, looking smug and self-satisfied. 

Elsewhere in the house, his dad was making calls to make sure that she wouldn’t get hurt any more…

And, oh yeah.  His girlfriend was pregnant, and was going to be living here now.  With him.  In his bedroom.  And judging by Gobber’s comments when he’d brought in the pizza, which his dad hadn’t refuted, that basically amounted to implied permission for the two of them to go at it like rabbits. 

Assuming, of course, that she wanted to. 

“So, what happens now?” Heather asked, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

“Now, you all go home and help with dealing with the shitstorm of rumors and lies going on around us,” Astrid said tartly.  “My neck hurts and I want to lie down.”

“Lie down, or ‘lie down’?” Cami asked, making the air quotes.

Astrid’s arm around his side tightened.  “Why not both?” she asked, and Hiccup felt himself stir at that, and he flushed as the other girls gave him assessing looks. 

“So… how is the neck, Ast?” Heather asked, concerned. 

Astrid sighed.  “My father yanked on my braid pretty damn hard.  Twice.”  They all grimaced or flinched at her.  “So I need to let my neck rest for a few days.”

Ruffnut leaned forward.  “So… um… Hiccup?  Henry?”

He looked at her, feeling overwhelmed.  “Yeah?”

“I’m sorry about the picture thing.”

He smiled at her.  “Thanks, Ruffnut.  Accepted.”

He settled back against Astrid, and the banter continued around him.  He realized after a few minutes that Cami seemed to be deliberately dragging things out, and enjoying Astrid’s growing frustration.  He rolled his eyes.  Then he leaned against his girlfriend, holding her hand and rubbing her fingers with his thumb. 

Finally Heather’s phone buzzed, and she said, “And there’s Dagur.  Come on, let’s leave them alone.” 

Hiccup and Astrid saw their guests out the door and into Dagur’s car.  As she shut the front door behind her, Astrid slumped.  “Gods, I thought they might drag that out further.”

“Well, better than them leaving in a huff, telling you that I’m taking advantage of you or something,” he pointed out.

She snorted.  “If anyone is taking advantage of anyone around here, it’s me taking advantage of you, Hiccup.  Place to stay… food… legal advice…” she glanced towards the office, “and all of this,” she said, finishing off by motioning towards him.

“You just gestured to all of me,” he said, smiling.

“Yeah.  I did.”  She stepped forward and kissed him.  Her tongue licked out over his lips and then she nibbled on his lower lip as she used her hands to grab handfuls of his hair.  Then she broke the kiss and said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m wiped.  And I do honestly want to lay down.  With you.  And maybe do something.  But after the last few hours, I’m so drained.”

He nodded, even as he ran his hands over her back, feeling the firm muscles under his fingers.  “Then let’s go,” he said softly.

Holding hands, they mounted the stairs and went to his room.  Astrid went and closed the door behind them, and put his backpack in front of it to block it closed, just like they did back in her house.  Then she turned to him, and, gingerly, she took off her shirt and jeans, standing there in her underwear and the neck brace. 

He looked her over and felt himself stir and harden.  She was beautiful, and he wanted to kiss those bruises in some emotional attempt at healing them.  She walked over to him and put her hands around his waist, and lifted.  Hiccup shivered as her fingers ran up his skin and she pulled off his shirt.  Then she turned her attentions to his waist and undid his belt and button, making his jeans drop to the floor and leaving him in boxers. 

She took his hand and pulled him over to the bed.  She sat, and then indicated the spot next to her on the bed.  “Before… before they called and came, I was trying to say something to you.  And I still want to say it.  Because you need to hear it.”

Hiccup felt his gut sink, but nodded.  Here it came.  “What is it?”

“Hiccup… _Henry.”_   She turned to him and pushed him back slightly onto the bed.  “You’ve done so much for me… not just in the last day, but in the last year.  You’ve been a saint, practically, with your patience and understanding and willingness to do what I needed.  And I’m unspeakably grateful for all of that.”  She touched his chest with the tips of her fingers.  “This might have started because you were the only guy I was allowed around… but it’s become so much more.  And you mean so much to me.”  She leaned in.  “And I’ve come to two realizations,” she whispered by his ear.

“Which are?” he asked huskily, his voice thick as she stood over him, a vision of beauty, even as his heart pounded in fear at the possibilities of what she was about to say. 

“Two… I don’t deserve you.  You’ve been carrying this relationship since we… since _I_ started it, and I haven’t pulled my weight in making this an arrangement between two equal people.  And if you walked away from here right now and said that you didn’t want to be with me anymore, I’d consider that fair.”

He made a noise of protest at that image, even as his eyes widened in shock at the suggestion that he’d even _consider_ abandoning her.  Then he narrowed his eyes and asked, “And what’s number one?”

“Number one realization is that…” she moved to straddle him, her knees on either side of his pelvis, “I… I love you, Henry ‘Hiccup’ Haddock.”

The words hit him like a bolt of lightning, and he gaped at the beautiful face only centimeters from his own.  “You… you do?”

“I do.  But if you don’t feel the same way, I understa—mmnh!”

He kissed her and then immediately broke it.  “I love you too.  Gods, I love you.”  He kissed her again.  “How could I not?  You’re smart, and sarcastic, and like to learn, and you think on things and have a gloriously dirty mind and you’re so godsdamn beauti—mmmh!”

It was his turn to be interrupted as Astrid planted her lips on his.  He returned the kiss with fervor. 

Gods.  She did love him.  She _did_ want to be with him. 

He ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of her lip, touching the front of her teeth, and she shivered on top of him.  He felt himself stiffen more and broke the kiss to stare at her, glassy-eyed and dazed from joy.  “I. Love. You,” he said, punctuating each word with another kiss. 

“And I love you,” she gasped out as he moved away from her mouth and started to inch his way with kisses down her right cheek, his hands working at her bra clasp, focused on her entirely.  “You’re funny and smart and sarcastic and, ooooh, so clever and I want to just count every freckle on your skin with my _tongue,_ ” this last was said in a high-pitched voice as he took her earlobe gently between his teeth and sucked on it as he poked at it with his tongue, her bra falling away into his hands.  He tossed it aside, enjoying the feel of her, dressed only in her panties, on top of him. 

“And you know so many things and you’ve got so many skills and, _gods don’t stop doing that,_ ” she said in a breathy half-gasp, half-squeal as his hands reached around and started to caress her breasts and nipples, “and I’ve been wanting to be public with you since the school year started,” he released the earlobe and kissed his way down to her neck, skipping over the neck brace and planting a kiss firmly on the top of her collarbone, “and I wasn’t _brave_ enough and I’m so sorry that it took me so _long_ and gods I love you…”

“I love you too…” he murmured against her collarbone, and, caught up in the moment, gently nipped at her skin with his teeth. 

She jerked on top of him and gave a low moan, clutching at him.  “Gods yes…  please…” she moaned.  “And I just want to grab your butt in public and kiss you silly in the lunch hall, and get to do all of that silly couple stuffooooh!”  She ended on a high note as, to get a better angle on nibbling on her shoulder, he released her breast from one hand and moved it down to her groin.  Hiccup smiled against her shoulder as his fingertips found her practically dripping under the panties.

For him. 

Gods, for him.  The unattainable woman he had fallen for was babbling about how she had lusted after him for months. 

He slid his fingers under her panties and started to stroke at her soaking wet slit, finding her clit with ease and playing with it. 

“Tell me what else you want to do with me as a couple,” he said, his voice sounding a bit thick as he traced the length of her collarbone with his tongue. 

“I, I, I want to go to the movies with you and stuff popcorn in your face and steal your cola,” she gasped out as he ran figure-eights around her clit with his fingertip.  “I, I, oooh!, I want to cuddle under every blanket in the house when it’s cold and snowy out…” she babbled as he started to dip his fingertip into her, her panties shoved halfway out of the way by now.

He grinned and licked his way down to her breast, and started to play with her nipple using his lips and teeth. 

She moaned and breathed out, “And I want, want to take you on a date, a nice dinner date… see you all dressed up… and knowing that we’ll,” she gasped as he sucked on her nipple and slipped a finger fully inside her at the same moment, “we’ll be, be in bed at the end of the night… those, oooh! those nice clothes lying on the floor after, after I rip them off you…”

Hiccup moaned at that image, imagining Astrid dressed in one of the fancy gowns that he had seen her dressed in for one of her parents’ high society parties, him dressed in a suit, the two of them eating dinner together in someplace public… and then them making out like this in those fancy clothes, all disheveled and hot and bothered.

She continued, “…and I want to take you dancing…”

He snorted against her chest, released her nipple from his mouth, and muttered, “Ast, I have only one foot.”  He then returned to licking at her breasts with long strokes of his tongue.

“…I… oooh!” she gasped as he continued to finger her, slipping in a second digit and wiggling the two of them back and forth.  “I…  can teach you… it doesn’t have to be energetic…”  She was breathing harder and harder, her skin flushed and sweating.  “But… I want everyone to see us together, holding each other as the music plays… we move together so well here…”  She moaned as he dipped around inside of her, his free hand caressing her other nipple.  “I want them all to see you… see you move, see you with me… us moving together, eyes only for each other… and know that we’re _together.”_

He moaned and twitched, and then nibbled on her nipple as his finger twisted around in her and hit the g-spot as his thumb massaged her clit.

On top of him, Astrid wasn’t really coherent anymore; she was babbling and vocalizing her love for him—and then she spasmed atop him.  “ _Hiccup!_ ” she wailed in ecstatic pleasure.

A small part of Hiccup’s mind was occupied with the realization that there was no way his dad and Gobber hadn’t heard that, but he dismissed the thought.  It wasn’t a secret to them that he and Astrid were _together_ , and his dad had basically given them carte blanche permission to do exactly this.  He could worry about the teasing later. 

Right now, he wanted to give the woman he loved—and who, amazingly, miraculously, had confessed her love of him in return—the most pleasure she had ever experienced in her life. 

She slumped against him, panting happily as she came down from her climax. 

“You good?” he asked, stroking up and down her back.

_“Amazing_ ,” she said, sounding like she was about to cry from sheer happiness.  “It feels so good to have said that.  And I was afraid that you would just tell me to get lost, that it was all just for the sex…”

He shook his head, grinning so hard that his cheeks were hurting.  “No.  I fell for you a long time ago.  When you kissed me last winter… I was certain that I was dreaming.  Why would someone like you want someone like me?”

“Why… why wouldn’t I?” she asked, and gave him a kiss. 

“Well, I’m a geek and a nerd and I only have the one foot…” he said softly as she lifted away from his lips a moment later.

“And you’re a genius, and a great cook, and a great lover, and kind and considerate…”  Then she look down.  “I… I haven’t been the best girlfriend, have I?” she asked, snuggling against his chest, still coming down from her orgasm. 

He patted her gently, mindful of her neck.  “Given everything… especially with your family being as fucked up as it is, I think that you were as good a girlfriend as you could manage.”  He started to massage her shoulders, and she moaned against his chest.  He was so hard that it was distracting, almost painful, but that could wait a little bit.  He wanted to have enough brains to be able to say what he was about to express.  “Astrid.  As soon as that issue was gone… what did you do?  You came to me… and made it clear that we’re together.”  He reached over and gently stroked her chin.  “What else could I ask for?”

“I… I… _damn_ you for using logic against my emotions,” she said jokingly.  “That’s unfair.”

He cackled and started to stroke her rear, slowly pulling down her panties.  “Up for round two?  I’m planning on reducing you to a puddle of moaning goo,” he said, smirking. 

To his surprise, she shook her head and grabbed his hands with one hand, and then pushed him back on the bed with the other.  “Nope.  Your turn.  It’s time I started making this a relationship between equals—and me lying back while this spike here,” she stroked his cock, making him shiver, “goes unattended isn’t very fair.  I already had one mindblowing orgasm—it’s your turn.”

And, with that, she slid off of him and knelt at the side of the bed, her head between his legs.  And then she went to take his cock in her mouth, but as she bent her head forward, she hissed in pain, and he saw the skin around her eyes tighten and turn white.

The mood broke and he said, bending forward, “Yeah, no.  I appreciate it, milady… but you’re hurt, in pain and—”

She stood up and put her finger on his lips.  “Okay, if not that…” she pushed him back and straddled him, “…then this.” 

She sank down on him, her warmth enveloping him with no resistance; she was drenched to the point where Hiccup could actually feel a little of her juices dripping out and onto his crotch.  They both moaned, and she started to ride him, her hands braced on his abs, away from the growing bruise from where both her father and Snotlout had punched him, moving slowly at first, and then faster.

Too fast.

He caught the little whimpers of pain and hissed intakes of breath that she was trying to hide from each peak of every bounce, and put his hands on her hips, and slowed her down.  “Ast… you’re hurting yourself.  Stop…”

“I… can… handle… it…” she gasped out between bounces.

“But you don’t have to,” he insisted, and reached up and held down her thighs. 

Stilled, his cock fully inside her, she sighed and said, “I can handle it, Hiccup.”

He shook his head.  “Ast… think of something else.  Something that won’t hurt your neck.”  He shifted and carefully and slowly pulled out from her.  They both sighed as he came loose. 

She seemed to be thinking as she sat back on his thighs, and Hiccup took a moment to appreciate the view of her atop him, gloriously naked, her hair still tied in the ponytail braid that she had put it in this morning, the only thing on her body being the neckbrace.  He reached up and started to caress her breasts and clit, and she half-heartedly blocked them. 

“I’m trying to think,” she said, her words at odds with the smile on her lips. 

“Astrid, I don’t have to lie back and think of England for this,” he said, and then dramatically shivered.  “Besides, who would want to think of them anyway?”

She snorted.  “Bloody Brits and their politics.  But we can talk about that stuff later.  For now… fine.  But I want this to be for _you,_ not for me.  Okay?”

“How about for both of us?”

She shook her head.  “Later, but I want you, Mister ‘I was willing to take a beating for me’ Haddock to get the fun out of this round.”  Then she smiled and said, “I have an idea.”  She hopped off of him, and grabbed his bed’s pillow.  “Get up and off.”

Curious, he did so. 

As he stood, she plopped the pillow down at the foot of the bed, and gingerly laid herself down on it, her head hanging slightly over the edge, and opened her mouth.  “Fuck my face, Hiccup.  You’re in control.  I trust you… and I want to give you pleasure.”

Hiccup’s erection had been fading as they’d been arguing, but now it came back in full force.  “Really?  You’re—”  He motioned to her, speechless. 

“ _Yes,_ Hiccup!” she said, exasperated, and pointed at his cock, standing up proudly and leaking from the tip.  “I want that in my mouth right now!  And if you’re so worried about how I’m going to enjoy it, I’ll tap you on the leg if I can’t handle it, how’s that?”

He nodded, and carefully moved forward, and slid into her mouth.  They both moaned, and she started to play with his balls with one hand and her clit with the other. 

It was odd; Astrid always was in control when she gave him a blowjob, and now he was doing his best to keep from thrusting too hard and making her choke on him.  Meanwhile, she had her eyes closed and seemed to be focusing on working his shaft over with her tongue.  It was a bit awkward, really, and he made her choke once by moving just a little too far in.  She hadn’t tapped him on the leg, though.

He slowed his thrusts, and she grunted at him impatiently.  His abs were bothering him, too, from the punches that he’d taken, and as another twinge of pain came from them, he backed out, his cock still standing up hard, and shook his head.  “I don’t think this is working,” he said apologetically.  “This,” he motioned to the darkening bruise on his gut, “hurts too much.  And I’m too worried about hurting you.”

She slumped.  “Then what?”

He shrugged, and then an idea came to him from what he’d read before.  “Roll onto your side?”

She did so, and he slid into the bed next to her, spooning.  It took a moment, but he managed to line up just right to enter her from behind, and they both moaned.  “Okay… that’s good,” she said.  “Now…”

“Yes, milady.  Fuck you.  I got that part,” he said wryly.  He reached around to brace himself properly, his arm on her chest, and started to thrust into her, using his intact right leg as the motive force.  It was slow and sensual as he slid in and out, and she pushed back against him, her muscles clenching around him, feeling hot and warm and wet and welcoming.  He also took the opportunity to play with her breasts some more, enjoying the moans that she gave as he teased her nipples between his fingers. 

As they moved together, he said softly into her ear, “I love you.”

“Love you too,” she whispered back.  “Gods, I love you so much.”  She clenched around him and he gasped. 

Not to be outdone, he palmed both of her breasts with his hands and started to massage them.

“What did… ooh… I say about… this being for you?” she bit out between his languid thrusts. 

He smiled into the back of her neck.  “You’re so competitive, Ast.”  He reached down and played with her clit, making her whine and thrust against his hand.  “Not everything has to be a competition or,” he squeezed one of her breasts, “tit-for-tat.”

She snorted.

“And if you think that I’m _not_ taking any pleasure in doing _this,”_ he rolled and pinched her nipple, making her gasp with pleasure, “then you’re wrong.”

She grumbled for a moment, and then gave a happy moan as he kissed the back of her neck, sucking and licking it gently.  “Mine,” she said happily.  “Gods, you’re mine.”

“Was there doubt on that?” he asked, still thrusting into her curled body.

She grunted ruefully.  “Yeah.  After everything… I wasn’t sure if you would, ahhh, want to be with me.”

“Well, I do,” he said, and, getting used to the position, started to increase his rhythm, making them both moan. 

“How did you get so good?” she asked breathlessly after another dozen thrusts.

“What do you mean?” he asked absently.  He wasn’t going to last much longer; he could feel his own climax starting to build in earnest.

“Hiccup… you’ve only been with… ohh gods!” 

She suddenly spasmed in his arms, and her wildly clenching muscles around him drove him over the edge as well, and he felt himself drain into her with a feeling of near relief.

They laid there in silence, both of them panting, their climaxes having nearly taken them by surprise. 

Finally, he said, “We’re doing this one again.  Wow.”

“Agreed.  But where did you get the idea for it?” she asked languorously, practically glowing from the comedown.  She bounced a little on him.  “Wow.  I can still feel you inside of me…  I like it.”

He smiled.  “Glad to be of service.”

“Yeah… on that note… I owe you a few orgasms,” she said. 

He smirked into her hair.  “Whenever you want, milady.”

She cackled.  “I could have some really evil fun with that.”

He scoffed and gently stroked her arm.  “What would you do?  Go under the table in the dining hall and blow me at school?”

She _hmm_ ’ed contemplatively.  “If it wouldn’t get us kicked out, I would…”

“Astrid!”

“What?  I have the distinct feeling that I might end up developing an exhibitionist streak, if not an outright kink, after having been forced to be repressive for so long,” she said, rolling her hips on his softening cock. 

Hiccup twitched.  “Umm… we’ll talk.  Because I’m definitely not exhibitionist.” 

She pulled free, rolled around carefully to face him, and quirked an eyebrow.  “Your dad and the guy you called an honorary uncle are less than ten meters from where we’re laying, Hiccup.”

He slumped and covered his face with both hands.  “Oh, don’t remind me.  They’re going to have a field day with the teasing.  There’s no way they didn’t hear us.”

“And yet… nobody breaking down the door to tell us that we’re in trouble,” she pointed out with glee.  She rolled against him suggestively.   “And that reminds me… where _did_ you get so good from?”

He laughed and rolled out of bed.  Grabbing his phone, he opened a browser and typed in a few addresses.  “Here.”

She glanced at the website headers and groaned.  “Really?  ‘Doctor Nerd Love’ ‘Lifehacker’?  Fucking really?”

He smirked.  “Yep.  Those and a few other sites for advice.”  He leaned in, his smirk growing.  “And given your reactions, I’d say that it was all good advice.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.  “Okay, apparently I have to dig through here too, now.”  She shook her head and handed the phone back to him.  “You really are a geek,” she said fondly.

“And proud of it,” he said, looking down at the nude beauty in his bed, who was there because he was a geek.  “And you love me for it.” 

“I do,” she said, smirking.

“So… what now?  Shall we get dressed and go face the music?”

“Mmmh.  Not yet.  Cuddles first,” she said languidly.  “I’m not hungry yet, and the rest of the world can wait.  I just told my boyfriend that I love him.  I want to enjoy that a bit longer.”

“As milady wishes,” he said with a grin, and he got down on the bed and spooned with her again.  She pulled the blanket up over them, and they relaxed together.  She picked up his phone and started to browse through the articles on the sites he’d linked.

Hiccup caressed Astrid from where she was lying in front of him, amazed.  He’d been expecting… anything but this. 

As he stroked her back and shoulders, feeling happy and sated and in awe at what had just happened, he looked up at the drawing of her that he’d done over the summer on the wall.  Astrid the dragon-riding shieldmaiden.  It had been his fantasy, taking the girl that he’d been falling for and making her in an ax-wielding warrior on dragonback.  And when she’d seen it, she hadn’t been offended.  She’d _liked_ it. 

Hiccup didn’t know what he’d done to please Freyja and Frigga, but he’d clearly done _something._  

Finally, Astrid murmured something in front of him. 

“Did you say something, Ast?”

She turned around and kissed him, and then asked, “So… since you’ve actually read this… you did a lot of looking around, right?”

He nodded. 

“I haven’t.  But I want to be with you, and I want us to be happy… and enjoy ourselves.”  She rubbed up against him, and, somehow, he stirred. 

She noticed, and glanced down, her eyebrows quirking sardonically.  “Really?”

“I’m sixteen, Astrid.  I think my refractory period is something along the lines of fifteen minutes.”

She snorted.  “Geek!  Seriously, I’m in awe that you can actually just drop terms like that into casual conversation!” 

He grinned at her.  “And I know that it gets you going, too.”

She smirked and rolled her eyes.  “Yeah.  I do enjoy it when you talk nerdy to me,” she said, molding herself up against him languorously and starting to run her fingers on his back, which made him shiver.  “But, wow.  I’m still impressed by that big brain of yours.”  She kissed him.  “So… since you’ve already done the research…  what are _your_ kinks?”

Hiccup froze at the sight of her face… and the bruise on it.  “I… um… can we talk about that later?  I have a few of them figured out, but now’s not the time…” he muttered, feeling a little shamed. 

“What, don’t tell me that you’re into something gross!” she said, tensing slightly.

“What?  No!  I just…”  He sighed and slumped onto her.  “I’m not even that extreme.  I just…”

“Hiccup…”  She pursed her lips and nodded.  “You promise that it’s nothing gross?”

He nodded, not wanting to tell her what his fantasies were.  Later, yes… but not now.  No way now.  Not when one of them involved getting little bruises that marked both of them as belonging to the other person.

Not when she had a giant bruise on her face from her father. 

“I promise.  Nothing gross.  No bodily fluids—although I have to wonder about you, now that I think about it, with that blowjob this morning—no gross stuff, promise,” he said.  “I just…”  he bowed his head.  “Ijustdon’twantyoutofreakout.”

She shifted herself down and looked up into his eyes.  “Hiccup.”

“Yes?”

“I just half-seriously considered getting on my knees in the school dining hall and giving you a blowjob.  Can you tell me one of yours?”

He looked at her, and her beautiful blue eyes, her left one marked by a ring of bruised skin, and sighed.  “Okay.  I… um…”  He sighed.  “Mind you, fantasies.  I know that there’s just one person I’m interested in sharing them with, and I haven’t experimented to see if the reality matches with the fantasy.”

“Caveat noted,” she said, smiling slightly.  “Ever the scientist.  So… name me one?”

“You… dressed like that,” he nodded his chin towards the drawing of her as a Viking, “and me tied up a little bit and you being dominant on me…” he said, quietly and slightly ashamed. 

She blinked.  And then started to smile.  “You… your fantasy is me as a badass Viking shieldmaiden having my way with you?”

He nodded.

She kissed him.  Hard. 

Hiccup was taken aback, but then melted into the kiss.

“You’re not mad?” he asked when they broke it a moment later. 

“All I just heard was, ‘Astrid, please dress up as a female power fantasy and have your wicked way with me.’  And I _like_ that,” she said with glee.  “As for me… I’m still figuring out mine, but,” she traced a nail up his chest, “I’m here… and we can experiment all we want.”

Relieved that she hadn’t freaked out, he waggled his eyebrows.  “And take notes.  Remember, it’s not science unless you write it down.”

She laughed.  “So, what would be our control sample?”

“The last half year?” he suggested. 

“Ouch.  Well, that works, but ouch,” she said, wrinkling her nose.

He shrugged.  “As a baseline… I’d say that it works?”

“Let’s not get carried away with that metaphor, shall we?” she said, rolling her eyes fondly at him.  “But, yes, if that’s the sort of thing that you fantasize about… yeah, I think I’m fine with that.”

He smiled.  “Yeah, that’s one.”

She rolled back over and spooned with him again.  “Are there any articles in here that you’d recommend that I read?”

“A few… and honestly, there was one that I really think we should consider,” he said, thinking over the conversation that they’d just had.  “Actually, if you don’t mind…?”

She wordlessly handed the phone over to him, and he quickly found the article he was looking for.  “Here.”

She started to read, and he gently caressed her, still in awe.  Hel, _more_ in awe.  She hadn’t laughed or marched off when he had shared that roleplay and submission fantasy.  No, she’d gone that she _liked_ it. 

He was starting to wonder if he was the subject of a bet between Freyja and Loki…

Looking around his room, he started to ponder options.  Because this wasn’t going to be _his_ room any more.  It was going to be _their_ room. 

Gods.

Astrid was going to be moving in with him.  Had already moved in with him.  They’d gone from zero to one hundred kph, and the feeling was exhilarating. 

But if she was going to be here, it needed to be her home as well.  Converting his dad’s office wasn’t an option; his dad didn’t have a separate practice elsewhere, and used the home office as a home base when he wasn’t out dealing with some military tribunal or other such court.  Short of his dad renting an office elsewhere on Berk and packing up and moving everything out—including the document safe anchored into the wall—they really didn’t have any other place for her to stay… aside from with him. 

Whoo boy.

Well, he had some ideas, and he’d talk them over with his dad when he had the chance. 

Then Astrid stirred.  “Huh.  I like it,” she said.  “I’ve heard of safewords before—thank you, Cami—but I like the idea of us just having them for everyday stuff.  Just to let the other know that you’re uncomfortable… and to give some space.”

Hiccup nodded.  “And that’s why I suggested it.  Because, well… if I’d had the option, I would have used it a little bit ago.”

“Oh.”  She sounded guilty from where she was lying in front of him.  “Uh… I… I’m sorry,” she stammered out.  “I didn’t realize.”

He nodded and kissed the top of her head.  “Accepted.  But, after this morning, I thought that it might be a good thing for you as well.  Just in case you needed space instead of a hug.”

“Oh.  I hadn’t thought of that,” she said quietly.  “Yeah…”

“So… let’s pick our safewords?” he said, and she agreed.  They discussed and settled on them, and Hiccup mentally logged that in his head.  If Astrid said _Hooligan,_ he was to back off and give her space… regardless of the situation. 

And he’d do it, too. 

Because even as much as part of him wanted to leave teethmarks and lovebites all over her, he didn’t want to _hurt_ her.  Not now, not ever. 

It was such a strange feeling, being in love. 

He reclaimed his phone, and saw the notifications on top, and sighed.  “I’m still getting people insisting that it is all fake, and that I might have hacked your account for that post before.”

She snorted.  “What, the picture of the two of us all over each other, your hand on my cheek, wasn’t good enough for them?”  She chuckled evilly.  “I could send them a picture of us in bed together.”

“You wouldn’t,” Hiccup croaked. 

She twisted to look at him.  “I wouldn’t… but only because you don’t want me to,” she said softly.  “But I’d definitely consider it.”

Hiccup paused, considering.  “You weren’t kidding when you said you might be developing an exhibitionism kink.”

“No, I wasn’t.  I’m _free_ , Hic, and I want to shout it from the rooftops.”  She stretched and wrapped her arms around him.  “And I’m with you.  I’m free to be with you.  And I love you.”

“Love you too,” he said softly, barely believing that he could say it.  And then a thought occurred to him.  “Hey, Ast?”

“Mmmh?”

“Rather than us stressing out on telling people that they’re wrong and all of that…” he pointed to the drawing of her as a Viking, “last night, you said that I had permission to draw you.  Would you be willing to model for me?”

She grinned, and, instead of answering, playfully and gently kicked him out of bed with a smooth push of her feet.  “Come back with paper!” she said, and started to experiment with poses.

He laughed and walked over to his desk.  Getting out a sketchpad and some pencils, he set himself up at the drawing easel built into his desk, and turned to look at his girlfriend.  She had taken off the neckbrace and was posing in a playfully seductive manner to him that looked like she had her neck supported by her wrists. 

“I’m assuming this is going in our private sketchbook?” she asked with a wink. 

He felt himself harden, which made her grin grow wider.  “Y-yeah.”

“Pity.”  She smirked.

Hiccup took a deep breath, and focused on setting up his sketch.  It was torture, sure… but this was one of his fantasies as well—Astrid tormenting him just like this…

He set the lights, going for some good contrast, and sat down.  “Before I start… you’re comfortable?”

She nodded slightly, and then winced at the motion.  “Yes.  I can hold this for a while.”

He grinned, and set the pencil to paper.

 


	10. Chapter 9: Would You Turn Your Back On Me

**Chapter 9: Would You Turn Your Back On Me**

Astrid watched as Hiccup bent over the paper and felt euphoric. 

He loved her.  Gods, he _loved_ her.  Despite how she had treated him, despite everything, he loved her.  Not just loved her, but forgave her, supported the decisions that she’d made… and trusted her.

Her eyes kept darting to the sketch of herself on the wall behind Hiccup as he drew her.  She was sitting up, leaning against the headboard of the bed, her legs drawn up in front of her, coyly hinting at and yet covering her groin, using her fists to support her chin and neck, bracing her elbows on her knees, which had her arms covering the important bits of her breasts.  She couldn’t wait to see what the sketch would look like. 

Meanwhile, that other Astrid, the Viking shieldmaiden in the sketch on the wall, looked _awesome_.  She had armor on her shoulders and a Roman-style armored kilt around her waist, and was carrying a giant battleaxe.  And she was riding a giant bird-like dragon, on top of everything else.  If that was how Hiccup, her boyfriend… no, her _partner_ envisioned her… she wanted to drag him back to bed and help him with that erection that was still standing proud and tall in his lap.

Instead, she started making some mental notes on where to get the bits and pieces for the Viking costume; fortunately, with Samhain coming up, there was plenty of costume-making supplies in the shops.  Of course, she had no money, but she might be able to connive with her friends for most of it. 

She wanted to give Hiccup his fantasy.  Especially since it was one that showed her such trust.  She would show him that she was worthy of it.  And the thought of them together like that… it was making her wet again, the image of him tied to the bed and her riding him, roleplaying out a shieldmaid and a handsome young man…  mmmh… yes…  Then she realized that her ass was still seated right on the bed.

She snorted.  They were going to need to change the sheets on the bed before they went to sleep tonight.

Then that thought made her want to shiver in excitement and shock. 

She was _sleeping_ with Hiccup.  Literally sleeping, not just as an euphemism for sex.  And his dad was okay with it.  _Better_ than okay with it.  He was working tirelessly to help and support them. 

But her glorious genius geek would have been worth it if his dad had been nearly as shitty as her own father.  And _yet_ he had thought that she didn’t love him.

She wanted to shake her head at the two of them, but held still for the sketch.  Also, her neck was sore like _anything_.  She was no stranger to injury—she’d been doing martial arts for over a decade—but that had been one of the first full-on fights that she’d ever been in, and the only reason she and Hiccup—and her father—were not _more_ seriously injured was because that hadn’t been the objective for any of them. 

But even with that said, her neck _hurt,_ as did the top of her head, and she was amazed that the doctor hadn’t found any hair ripped loose or damage to the scalp _._ The anti-inflammatory pills were helping, but only so much.  She was looking forward to putting the brace back on, that was for sure.  

For now, though… she was cherishing the chance to have Hiccup sketch her.  She wanted this sketch framed… and probably stored someplace private, as a memento of when she’d taken her heart in her hands and given it to him, and he had given her his in exchange. 

She glanced at the wall clock—another whimsical one with dragons for hands and numbers—and smiled in satisfaction.  A day ago, she had been pacing her room in the process of packing her backpack and figuring out how well she could move in the layers of clothes she was taking with her. 

Now…

Well. 

The _only_ way in which she could be happier was if she was uninjured and been able to fulfill her intent of screwing Hiccup until he was a barely conscious puddle of sexed-out bliss lying drooling and moaning with pleasure on the mattress.  Well, her neck would heal within a week or so according to the doctor, so that could be saved for later.

After all, school would be starting up again in just under a week and a half, after the autumn break was over.  That gave her plenty of time to get settled in—and screw Hiccup like he deserved to be, for all of the wonderfulness that he’d shown her.

Smiling, she asked quietly, trying to keep from ruining her pose, “Is it okay if I talk?”

He nodded, his brow furrowed with intent focus.  “Just don’t move too much, and I’ll try to answer, but I might be concentrating.”

She rolled her eyes.  “Caveats noted.  Gods, are geeks capable of giving a straight answer?”

He looked up and grinned.  “No.”  And then he looked back down and continued to sketch. 

She made sure that she was sticking her tongue out at him and had both middle fingers extended during his next sketch glance.  He burst out laughing.  “Love you,” he said, grinning, and got back to his sketching.

The sounds of their breathing and Hiccup’s pencil on the paper were the only noises as Astrid rolled her eyes, unable to keep the fond grin off of her face.  Finally, she said, “So… what do we do from here?”

“Well, knowing my Dad,” Hiccup said, his tongue sticking out between his teeth as he sketched, “he’ll have at least two paths laid out for you to pick from—a risky one and a safe one.  You told him what you wanted as your end goal, and now he’ll be trying to find a way for you to do that.  I bet that he’s been on the phone to consult with some of the other lawyers that he knows, because family law isn’t his area of expertise.”  He glanced up at her, and then returned to sketching. 

“Okay.  What else?” she asked, repressing a shiver as some of the sex-sweat on her back started to cool.

“Well… we’ve got to deal with our classmates at some point.  And… assuming they just don’t kick us out, we need to finish with getting ready for the Highers.”  Their school was on the Scottish curriculum, not the British one, meaning that their graduation certificate exams were the Advanced Highers, not the British A-levels.  He had been tutoring her for the core skill subjects, plus the Psychology, Physics and Philosophy courses that they were taking together.  Hiccup was also taking Computing, Electronics and Mechanical Engineering, while she was taking Politics, History and Economics.

She grinned.  “Together.  You _are_ a good tutor, Hiccup, and I bet that we’ll do even better since we don’t have to spend all of that effort on pretending that we’re not together.”

He snorted and nodded.  They were already the first and second in the class ranking, although they could probably open up the gap a bit more.  Then he frowned and looked at her intently.  “That… that does raise one question, though.  Regarding school.”

She slumped a little.  She could guess.  “The… the baby.”

“Yeah…”  He put down his pencil and looked at her seriously.  “Ast… I don’t want to discuss it now, because we’re both tired and hurting.  But… is it _open_ to discussion at all?  Or have you already decided?”

She stared at him and realized that this was important to him… but at the same time, he was leaving the final say completely in her hands. 

Ten minutes ago, when he’d sat down in that chair to start drawing her, she thought that she couldn’t love him more.  She’d been wrong. 

She smiled and said, “Still open for discussion.  It’s my body… but _our_ kid.  I might have final say… but you have _a_ say.”

He gave her a hesitant smile and blew her a kiss.  “Okay.  But we’ll talk on that later.  Not today.”

“Of course,” she said, and continued to watch him sketch her.  There was a bead of sweat trickling down his forehead, and she wanted to lick it clean of his skin.  For that matter…

While his erection was fading, and part of her mourned its loss, she looked him over just as assessingly as he was examining her.  He was starting to shoot up like a beanpole; last year, she’d been taller than him, but now they were of equal height, and his jaw was emerging from his puppy-fat and gaining definition.  She wondered how he would look in another year or two…

She started to visualize, and felt her face flush when she realized that she would _be_ with him for every moment of it. 

Gods, yes. 

Well… at least she hoped that she would.  She took a deep breath and then asked, “So… Hiccup.  What do we _want?_ ”

“What do you mean?” he asked, sounding slightly distracted as he worked at the sketch. 

She sighed and tried to get her thoughts in order.  “Okay.  I want… I want to be free of my father.  Your dad asked if I wanted to seek emancipation from my parents.  I do.  And I want to finish school and go to university and study for _myself,_ not for my father’s wants to have a Successful Child Trophy.  What I want to be… I don’t know.  But… I do know that I do want… I want you.  I want you with me.”

Hiccup looked up at this last confession, and a smile grew on his face.  “Milady… that sounded very close to a proposal of something.”

She nodded, smiling at him.  “I know that we’re both still young and everyone will tut-tut us for rushing things… but… I know that I want to be with you.”  She tilted her head slightly and rolled her eyes to indicate the room.  “Maybe this will be our chance to try things, to see if we work as a couple… if you want.”

Hiccup looked like he was going to cry out of happiness.  “Mi… _Astrid._   You’re right.  We’re legal age… but we have no reason to rush things.”  He grinned at her and wiped away a tear.  “For as long as you want me… you’ve got me.  Because I want you too… and I want to be _happy_ with you.”

The only reason Astrid didn’t hop off the bed and jump him right then and there was that he looked so intent on the drawing that she didn’t dare screw it up.  She wanted to remember everything he said in this moment every time she looked at that sketch. 

So, instead of hopping up and jumping him, she held her pose and imagined her new future, bright and happy, with Hiccup, instead of a dismal path charted out for her by her father according to his desires and dictates. 

For starters… This house was her home now. 

She imagined coming home from school with Hiccup, the two of them holding hands and being one of _those_ couples, the ones that made everyone around them sigh or roll their eyes.  The thought of being able to be public with their relationship instead of living in fear of discovery…  mmmh.  Yes.  She could barely express how happy that idea made her.

She imagined the fantasies that she had admitted to Hiccup; the idea of the two of them going out to the movies together was one in particular that made her shiver with delight.  Her father hated movies, and considered watching them to be a massive waste of time, an attitude that he’d done his best to impress on her.  To him, the idea of sitting and passively watching something for multiple hours was something for those who lacked ambition and prospects; she’d learned enough about history and politics that she could substitute the word ‘prole’ into his speech well enough. 

As a result, she’d only gotten to watch TV and movies as a child as a rare reward, or when at a friend’s house, and she’d done her best to keep the fact that they were the primary sources of her limited media knowledge away from her friends, out of fear at how they’d react.  As a result, most references went straight over her head, which she knew added to her reputation for aloofness. 

But now… now she didn’t have to worry about that any longer.  Because Hiccup would happily share movies and television with her. 

Her eyes widened for a moment at the thought of getting to spend Yule Holiday relaxing together.  They could spend the holiday, just the two of them, binge-watching Doctor Who or some other geeky TV series while wrapped up in every blanket in the house as the snows fell outside, instead of her being dragged off to London or some place on the Continent for some high society party.  She could be _herself,_ relaxed and in love, instead of being primped up, costumed and coiffed like some stage-ready actress, complete with a fake smile and a script to follow.

That fantasy… It was like begging for plain bread and being given a pie of Hiccup’s pizza.  Not just being with him… but being free of her parents. 

She imagined the two of them sitting at that dining room table downstairs, maybe with some of their friends, eating together and doing homework as a group.  There would be teasing, and banter, and discussion of thorny homework problems and interesting conundrums.  And all of it without the underlying frisson of fear and tension from her parents watching them… monitoring them… judging them.  Oh, that was a wonderful thought. 

And, of course, if they were having friends over, their friends—and she would make certain that Hiccup wasn’t a social outsider any longer—then Hiccup would insist on cooking for them.  And she would help him.  Maybe she wasn’t skilled in the kitchen… but she’d take Hiccup as her teacher over her mother any day. 

But from what she’d seen of the filled American-style freezer standing next to the washer/dryer units, Hiccup had enough food prepared to feed an army. 

Well, his dad _was_ in the army…

She quirked an eyebrow.  “Hey, Hiccup?  Why do you have so much food prepared?”

He peeked up over the edge of the paper.  “Come again?”

“No, that’s what you’re _not_ doing, because you’re sketching,” she said impishly.  “So answer the question on why you have so much food standing ready before I decide to make you ‘come again.’”

He snorted.  “Two reasons.  Well, three.  One, I like to experiment.  Two, I… I cook when I’m depressed or stressed.  And three, more than once, we’ve suddenly had an entire army squad come by for a planning session and it’s like watching the cloud of locusts descend.”

She giggled at the image.  “Do they appreciate your cooking, at least?”

“Oh, yeah.  I think that some of them deliberately try to come home with my dad for planning sessions just for the chance to raid the pantry—and, yes, that’s including a couple of senior officers.”

She laughed.  “Nice.”

“Well, Ma Kosti helps me, and they all think that it’s her cooking.”  He shrugged.  “To be fair, before a few years ago, they were right.  We just haven’t bothered to correct them.”

“Do I get to meet her at some point?” she asked, intrigued at this person who helped raise him and taught him how to cook. 

Hiccup spread his arms wide and shook his hands from side to side.  “Almost certainly in the next few days.  Be prepared to be fussed over and mothered.”

Astrid gave him a lopsided smile.  “I think that I can deal with that.”  She sighed and looked at him fondly, knowing that there was a giant sappy grin on her face and not giving a damn.  She loved him so much. 

The sounds of the pencil on paper were again the loudest sound in the room, and she marveled at how much privacy they were being given.  Her parents never left her alone for this long.  She supposed that Stoick was occupied, but still…

It felt nearly decadent to not have to worry about someone opening the door without a knock at any moment. 

She let her mind wander again, pondering life here in this house… life without her parents dictating every moment and every action. 

It was bliss, and, even more amazing, it was _possible._

If she could retrieve her laptop from her parents’ house—assuming that it wasn’t smashed or something—she and Hiccup could play video games together.  Hel, she could play video games _at all_ without being told that she was wasting time. 

They could cuddle on that deliciously comfortable couch downstairs and watch movies together.  She wondered what Hiccup could make for movie snacks…  although, she might want to invite some friends over in order to force her to keep things chaste and actually watch the movie. 

She could take a decadent bath in that enormous bathtub, just to relax.  A slight smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as she envisioned having Hiccup in the tub with her.  To save water, for sure.  That was her excuse.  Certainly. 

They… gods.  They could take pictures together and add them to the framed photos on the sideboard down in that soulless living room. 

That thought pinged off another, and she was struck with the burning urge to go to her parents’ house, rip down every photo that she had been forced to take from their walls, and schedule time with the Haddocks at a professional photographer to have pictures taken of the three of them.

She promised herself that would happen one day.  She would see both of those happen.  She had a new family, and she felt better with Stoick Haddock as a father figure after knowing him for less than six hours than she did with Cameron Hofferson after having been raised by him. 

As far as she was concerned, if she ended up having the baby, the child would never know their maternal grandparents.  She could tell them that Astrid had been adopted or something… or even just tell them the truth, rather than risk a curiosity-fueled attempt at reconciliation later.  Better that they knew that their grandfather was an abusive asshole than have some fantasy of some idealized grandparent that would draw her kid closer to Cameron Hofferson.

She realized that she was fantasizing what life would be like with the child and tried to stop.  She hadn’t even decided if she was having the kid yet. 

But it was hard… especially when she looked at Hiccup and wondered if they’d inherit his messy auburn hair or her long blond, his green eyes or her blue ones…

She groaned slightly, making Hiccup look up at her. 

“Everything alright?”

She nodded and snorted.  “My imagination is running amok.”

“And…?” he asked hopefully.

“Well… less on the kinks, and more pondering what the baby will look like.”

He froze. 

“Your hair or mine… your eyes or mine…” she said quietly.

He seemed to melt into a puddle.  “You’re… you’re wondering about that?  Does that mean you’ve decided… to…?”

She gently shook her head.  “Not yet… but it’s presenting a pretty solid argument on the ‘for’ column!”  She grinned at him as he looked at her, stunned.  “And I’m also imagining what life will be like, living with you.”

“Mmh… tell me about those,” he said, getting back to the sketch.

She didn’t comment on the small tear she saw sliding down his cheek, but instead started to tell him about the cute couple stuff she wanted to do with him and had never been able to, and about the peaceful home things that she imagined them doing together. 

“…and I want to have one of those stacks of drop scones, like how the Americans prepare them, drenched in maple syrup,” she said with relish. 

“Americans call them ‘pancakes’, love,” he said with an indulgent smile.  “But I can definitely do that.”  He reached down and delicately twisted with his pinky finger’s tip to blend the charcoal lines together, and said, “Done!”  He lifted the drawing board and turned it to her. 

She gaped.  It was… her.  And yet… not her.  Looking at the viewer with happy eyes, an impish expression, and a seductive pose.  She looked… beautiful and free, and confident in herself, and at peace with herself.  It was erotic, but still somehow reasonably tasteful—an artistic nude, not a titillating one.  But it was how _he_ saw her…

He held out the small sheet of paper with her image on it, and said, “If you like it, I’ll take it out back and spray some sealant on it later.”

She took it, her hands shaking.

“You okay?” he asked, wiping his hands and fingertips clean of the charcoal on a towel.

“Hiccup…” she said, and faltered.  How to make him understand…?  “I…I… this is who I want to be.”

“And you _are_ that person, Ast,” he said, bending in and giving her a peck on the cheek.  Then he stood and handed her the neckbrace.  She wordlessly handed him back the drawing and unraveled herself from the pose, her joints popping. 

“Ow, I ache,” she whined, and Hiccup was there, rubbing her back. 

“Were you holding still for too long?  I’m sorry, I should—”

She kissed him.  “It’s fine.  It’s my father’s fault more than yours.  Bruises ache.  But…” she looked at the drawing.  “You don’t understand.  You don’t.”  Then her eye fell on her Viking alter-ego on the wall, and she pointed at it.  “That’s not who I am.  And I’m flattered that you imagine me like that, but it’s not who I am.”  She sighed and rubbed at her temples with her eyes closed, trying to marshal her thoughts.  “Remember the ‘Love Me’ wall in my parents’ house?”

He nodded; it was what she called the wall of pictures hanging on the stairs, showing her parents in various places around the world, wearing artificial smiles for the camera, or shaking hands with important people.  She was in about a third of the pictures… as a pretty bauble for her parents, especially her father, to be complimented over.  _Your daughter is such a treasure!  A divine beauty!_   But Astrid could only remember the feelings that had surrounded those photos… and they weren’t positive ones.  Same for her school pictures and family photos; the Astrid in them was screaming inside.

“That’s not who I am.  It’s who they made me to be.  And this isn’t who I am either… not yet.  But I’d rather be the woman in this picture than the passive doll they tried to make me into.”  She stood and kissed him.  “I want to be this beautiful, confident and open woman… that you made me into, rather than what they tried to force me to be,” she breathed.

“I… I don’t know what to say to that,” he said sheepishly, running his hands through his hair. 

She smiled at him.  “There’s nothing to say.  You just gave me a target to shoot for, not a box to be confined to.”

“Oh.”  He still looked so sheepish that it was adorable, and she wanted to drag him back to bed and either cuddle or do something more athletic.  But she glanced at the clock and slumped.  They’d been in here for over an hour, and as much as she wanted more time with Hiccup… they couldn’t avoid having to deal with the other shit coming down at them.

Well… at least there was tonight.

“C’mon,” she said with a resigned smile.  “Let’s go see what your dad has to say about all of this.”

Hiccup flushed slightly, and then ruefully went to pull his boxers and pants on.  “Gods, that’s going to be an interesting talk.”

“Oh?  How so?” she asked, finding her panties lying on one of the bookshelves and pulling them on.

“Because…” he glanced at the clock, “six hours ago, as far as my dad knew, I was a virgin who had never gotten a date.  Now…”  He gave her a significant glance, focusing particularly on her midsection.

“Oh.  Well, that’ll be entertaining to watch,” she said cheerfully. 

“Your moral support is overwhelming,” he said dryly.

“What about my immoral support?” she asked, and turned to him, deliberately bouncing her chest at him with a smirk.  She didn’t have a very large bust, but it was enough to jiggle, and he stared, and then blinked.

“Don’t flash me when I’m talking with Dad, okay?”

“O-kaaay,” she drawled jokingly, but gave him a serious nod.  “I’ll behave myself.”

He pulled on his shirt, and, bending down, plucked her shirt from the floor—and then noticed the mud-and-grass stain on the back.  She shook her head and he lobbed it into the hamper.  “I just don’t know how he’d react.  Right now, I think he’s still shocked, too, and he’s getting overprotective.”

“Gotcha,” she said, nodding and slipping on her bra.  That made sense.  And it was a better reaction than her father’s, to be sure. 

Adding a fresh shirt from the basket of her clothes, jeans and her slippers made her fully dressed, or near enough to it, and she offered Hiccup her arm.  “Shall we?”

He nodded, looped his arm through hers dramatically, and they left his… _their_ little sanctuary to see if more could be had. 


	11. Chapter 10: When The Days Are Cold

**Chapter 10: When The Days Are Cold**

Bracing himself, Hiccup knocked on the door to his dad’s office.  Inside, there was a pause in the muffled voices, and then his dad’s voice called, “Come in.”

He opened the door and led Astrid inside.  Thankfully, his dad had never used this room to lecture him during his younger escapades, or it really would have felt like getting called into the Dean’s office.  No, this room was saved for weighty legal manners, and Hiccup could count the number of times he had come in here for anything more than a quick visit or to drop off food using his fingers and remaining toes. 

His dad was seated behind his desk, a notepad scribbled with his dad’s dense handwriting in front of him.  The military-marked laptop was sleeping in its docking port, while the tablet was sitting in its separate dock, the secondary monitor displaying some sort of document that Hiccup was certain was legal in nature. 

Meanwhile, Gobber was seated at the second desk, a legal text and his laptop open in front of him, likewise taking notes.  He looked up at the pair of them and practically glowed with glee behind his bifocals. 

Other than that, the only things out of place in the office were the pizza platter, glasses and plates, which were stacked on the sideboard below his dad’s framed certifications, honors and medals.  Hiccup made a mental note to take the dishes with him when he left. 

He and Astrid sat in the two guest chairs without a word, still holding hands. Thankfully, before it could grow any more awkward, that motion seemed to be enough to engage his dad’s Lawyer Instincts, and he looked over at Astrid.

“Miss Hofferson,” he said, folding his hands in front of him and giving her a friendly smile.  “First, let me say this much.  In this room, I am your lawyer.  I will do my best to maintain that relationship as such, with all of the professional distance required, within these four walls.  This may occasionally strike you as being callous or calculating.  That is the nature of the profession.”  He turned slightly and looked at Hiccup.  “Henry, the same goes for you.”

Hiccup nodded. 

“Outside of here, we can be family… assuming, of course, that’s where the future lies for you two.”  Stoick made a very obvious glance at their held hands.  “But in here, sentiment takes a back seat to practicality.  Do you understand this arrangement?”

Hiccup nodded, and Astrid croaked, her voice sounding dry and nervous, “Yes.”

Hiccup tightened his fingers around her hand, and she clenched back.

“Now, with those guidelines in place,” Stoick said, leaning forward, “let us begin.”  He drummed his hand on the pad of notes.  “I’ve been looking into this all afternoon while you were… occupied.”

Gobber coughed and grinned, but didn’t say anything. 

Stoick gave him a quelling look, and said, “Family law is not my area of expertise.  However, what I have found is not… encouraging.  Gaining formal emancipation here in the UK is effectively nearly impossible.”

Gobber scowled and said tartly, “Aye.  The general consensus seems to be ‘put up with your dad until you’re eighteen, and then tell him to fuck off because you’re a legal adult.’”

Hiccup felt his heart sink.  “Even with the abuse?”

Both his dad and Gobber nodded.  “To get a court order of emancipation here, there are four requirements, all of which have to be proven _,_ ” Stoick said flatly, although Hiccup could have sworn that he detected a note of disgust on the last word.  “First, Miss Hofferson, you need to be fourteen or older.  Not a problem, you’re sixteen.  Second, third, and fourth, however…”  He gave a slight scowl.  “To my knowledge, you fulfill none of them—and unless we could fulfill all of them, there’s no point in attempting to engage that route.”  He held up his right hand and starting ticking off on his fingers.  “Point Two; you would need to be financially independent solely on your own merits.  However, to my knowledge, you do not have your own source of income, and you would be receiving financial assistance from our household.  So that point fails.”

Astrid seemed to be retreating in on herself as Stoick spoke, and Hiccup ran his thumb over the backs of her fingers in support.

Stoick continued, “Point Three; you are able and capable of living on your own.  Again, to my knowledge, you fail this point; you have no independent housing, and there is no way that the social welfare assessment would certify a pregnant sixteen-year-old girl as being capable of living alone—which is the effect of the wording of the law.”

Astrid swallowed audibly, and asked in a choked voice, “And Point Four?”

“Point Four is a mixed bag,” Stoick said.  “On the one hand, if the social welfare office assessment concludes that it is _not_ in your overall best interests to remain in your parents’ home—”

Hiccup couldn’t help himself, and made an excited noise, and Astrid came to attention.

Stoick gave him a quelling look, and continued, “ _And,_ unfortunately… your parents must _also_ explicitly state that they have no objections to you moving out in order for the point to be fulfilled.”

Astrid stared at him, stunned.  And then she started to shake.  “I… I can’t… I’m trapped—”

“Hold on!” Stoick said, and held up his hands.  “There are other options, even if formal emancipation isn’t one of them.”

Hiccup edged his chair closer to Astrid’s and put his arm around her supportingly.  She leaned into his shoulder, and then looked at Stoick.  “And those are?”

Stoick gave them a small smile, which erased itself after a moment.  “Please remember that I am laying out options.  As I said, these might seem callous or calculating, but please bear with me.”

Astrid nodded, and her hand came out and clenched on Hiccup’s knee. 

“Option One, most simple…”  Stoick hesitated, and then said, “You two marry.”

Hiccup felt like his dad had slugged him in the gut, and Astrid seemed to be having a similar reaction, from the way that she tensed and sucked in a sudden breath. 

Before either of them could say anything, however, Stoick continued, “Legally, here in Scotland, you can get married at sixteen, regardless of parental consent.  That would take a minimum of one month, due to required waiting times, plus whatever grit your father might throw in the gears to slow it down—getting your documentation, for example.  But once that is done, you would legally be no longer part of your parents’ household; instead, in the eyes of the law, you would be part of Henry’s, and thus part of mine.” 

Hiccup turned to look at Astrid, who was looking back at him, her expression as stunned as he felt.  Less than two hours ago, they had confessed their mutual love to each other.  But… marriage? 

Then he remembered this morning.  Not just the sex, although that had been amazing. 

The joking together.  The banter over breakfast.  The way that she had inhaled the oatmeal he’d made her despite her initial reluctance.  The experience of cuddling together in his bed. 

Watching her come to his rescue against the man she feared most in the world.

His hand tightened on hers and she squeezed back.

Stoick seemed to be waiting for them to process that, and then coughed and continued.  “Option Two is much more complicated and stressful, but also functions as effectively a default.  We run out the clock.  Miss Hofferson, when is your birthday?”

“Uh… May tenth.”

Stoick nodded.  “So, in nineteen months, you’re a legal adult and he can’t control you any longer legally.  So this option essentially means tying him up in legal red tape—stretching out court dates, waiting to file paperwork until close to the deadline, etcetera—in delaying actions to keep him from forcing you back into that house until…” he clapped his hands together and then spread them widely, “Happy Eighteenth and goodbye!”  He returned his features to neutral, and said, “The strength of that option is that the courts move slowly.  The downside is that it _will_ be stressful, and I cannot emphasize that enough—it will not be resolved until May tenth a year and a half from now, and you would be living under the Sword of Damocles until then.  However, with the Non-Molestation Order we gave him, we’ve already effectively begun that procedure.  We’ve likely bought you at least a few weeks before he could possibly get it overturned.”

Astrid nodded weakly, and Hiccup squeezed around her shoulders; she was shaking, very slightly, probably nearly unnoticeably to Stoick and Gobber, but she was still shaking.  She was so _strong_ … but she’d been taught to fear her father, and she had learned the lesson well.  He squeezed tighter, trying to give her his strength, for whatever it was worth.

“There are other options as well… but first…” Stoick hesitated and couldn’t meet their eyes for a moment and then sighed.  “First I need to ask one very personal question.”

Astrid took a deep breath, looked him in the eye and said, “The baby.”

“The baby,” Stoick nodded.  Hiccup watched his father visibly fight for composure before continuing; the trembling hands calmed, and it only took three deep breaths before he said, “It would be tricky, but another option is to state that you fear for the child’s life in your father’s house—”

“Which I do,” Astrid muttered.

“—and you’ve taken refuge with us.  As that happens to be the truth, we… as… as the child’s next of kin, could potentially get a court order to have custody of it for its protection… and yours, as the mother.  The downside there is that, at the end of the pregnancy… there is a risk that the judge would order the child to be left with us, and we would have to file a separate appeal to keep you with it, in order to keep you from being taken back to your father’s house.”  He drummed his fingers on the desk.  “And, of course, that’s… that’s all contingent on you keeping the child.” 

Hiccup could see the naked hope in his father’s eyes, despite his efforts at hiding it with professionalism.  He was mostly sure that even if Astrid decided against keeping the baby, his dad would still do everything he could… but there was no doubt that it was helping motivate him.

Astrid squeezed his hand and said, “I… _we_ haven’t decided yet.”

Stoick’s eyes tracked to Hiccup, and Hiccup gave him a wane smile in reply.  “It’s her decision… but we promised to talk it out later.  When we’re not sore and hurting.”

“That sounds like a phenomenal idea,” Stoick said, and clasped his hands together.  “Beyond that, other options mostly amount to embroidery on Option Two—various legal tricks that, while individually might not be sufficient, together might help run out the clock.”

Hiccup watched as Astrid turned to look at him.  She looked so overwhelmed that his initial impulse was to thank Stoick, pick her up in his arms somehow, and tuck her into bed with something soft to cuddle until she was ready to deal with this shit.

As she would probably kick his ass if he tried—and the extra weight would probably make his stump pop free of the holding cup—he instead leaned over and asked quietly, “Do you want to step out and talk on this?  He won’t mind.”

Stoick nodded in agreement.  “Aye.  The good thing is that the orders we gave will buy us time.  You do not need to make a decision now, today, or even this week.  For the moment, I’m going to treat option two as the default, and research some delaying tactics.  The problem is that the rights of the parents are written to be vastly stronger than the rights of the child… but they are not so strong as to be inviolate.”  He sighed.  “Why don’t you two go talk, and Gobber and I will get back to work on this. We might find something else worth considering.”

Gobber nodded.  “Aye.  We were just starting to look at foster care when you came in.”

Stoick shook his head.  “I don’t think that will work, Gobber.  Too much time needed, both to certify, and to have available.”  He looked at the two of them.  “Go talk, you two.  We’ll let you know if we find a magic bullet.”

Not needing any more encouragement, they stood, still holding hands, and his other arm was slung supportively around her shoulder.  That earned a speculative—and hopeful—look from Stoick, but he didn’t say anything. 

As they went to the door, Hiccup said, “I’ll get started on dinner.  Any requests?”

“I’d love one of your steak-and-kidney pies, Hiccup,” Gobber said with relish. 

Hiccup smiled at him.  “Sure.  I think that I have everything for that.  I’ll make one.”

Gobber gave a magnanimous wave of his arm.  “Good!  You can make a second one for everyone else.”

That terrible joke broke the tension, and they all laughed.  Hiccup could feel the tension leaving Astrid’s body as she giggled, and flashed Gobber a grateful look.

Gobber smiled at them.  “Ah, lad, lass, chin up.  You’ve got one of the top lawyers of the Adjunct-General’s office—and his handsome assistant—working pro-bono for you to solve this mess.  The law might be on his side, but we’re on yours.  It’ll be okay.  We promise.”

“Aye,” Stoick nodded in agreement.  “Miss Hofferson… Astrid.  I promise, I will do whatever I can to keep him from hurting you again.”

To Hiccup’s surprise, she sniffed and asked in a choked, watery voice, “You promise?”

“I do.  Now… go, talk, relax.  I know that what I just told you was stressful.  We’ll discuss more later.  But you have my promise.”

“Thanks… dad,” Hiccup said.

“Aye, Hen… Hiccup,” Stoick said.

They left, and, closing the door behind them, walked down the hallway to the kitchen, Astrid leaning on his shoulder.

“Are you all right?” he asked her.

“I… I don’t know.” 

They walked a few more steps before she gave a sound that was some strange combination of a sob and a snort. 

“What?” he asked, concerned.

“This morning, I joked to myself that I was going to marry you for the sex and the food.  And there was our talk before, when you were sketching.  And now…”  She flapped her hands helplessly. 

Hiccup turned to her and hugged her.  “Hey, hey, hey… it’s okay…”

“I… gods, Hiccup.  When he said that he was going to be professional, I didn’t realize that meant _cold!_ ”  She pushed her face into his shoulder and gave a sob.  “I… I want to be with you, but now it feels almost… _wrong_ to get married to get me free of my father!”

“And… and you… you wouldn’t—”

“Hiccup, I don’t _know!_   I’m sixteen!  And I love you, but, but, but…”

“But it doesn’t feel like something we can decide just yet?”

She mutely shook her head.  “We just went public with this… and now we’re going to get married?”

Hiccup realized that, somewhere along the line, it had shifted from a _maybe_ to a _definite_ in her head, and he stroked her back along her spine, gently rubbing down along the small mounds of the bone protruding from her lithe back.  “Astrid… You don’t have to decide now.  You heard Dad.  We’ve got time.”  He bent down slightly and kissed her gently.  “All I know is that I love you and want to be with you.  But I also want you to be happy.”

She nodded, and shoved her face into his shoulder again.  Hiccup held her and they swayed together as she heaved silently in quiet sobs. 

As she seemed to be draining herself of tears for the second time that day, Hiccup made calming sounds again.  And also took a moment to do some thinking himself.

Finally, as she seemed to be near empty, Hiccup said quietly, “Ast?”

“Yeah?” she sniffed. 

“My… my thoughts basically boil down to… I love you and I want to be with you.  But we’ve barely been with each other.  So… Dad said that those orders bought us time?”

She sniffed and nodded.  “Yeah.”

“We use it.  Like you said, this is our chance to try things, to see if we work as a couple.  We get to know each other.  We go on dates.  We sleep together, like a couple—actually sleep.  We do the domestic stuff together.  We do the adult couple thing like we’ve seen on the TV all our lives.  We see if we’re actually good for each other.  We do that couple thing where they move in together to see if they’re ‘compatible.’  And _then_ we make a decision… or not.”  He hugged her tighter.  “Because as much as I want to propose right now… that’s also the worst idea I could do, I think.  Because we wouldn’t be doing it because we love each other.  We would be doing it because it is the fastest way to get you free of your dad.  And that wouldn’t be good for us.” 

She nodded, and gave a sniffle.  “Okay.”  She looked up at him, a weak smile on her face.  “Hiccup… would you go out with me?” she asked softly.

He smiled back at her.  “Yes, milady.  What kind of date did you have in mind?”  His smile deepened.  “It would be our first real date, wouldn’t it?”

“Dinner and a movie is traditional, right?”

“Never dated before, but yeah, I think so.”

“Then let’s do that.  But for now… let’s go make dinner,” she said, and her smile strengthened.  “I want to watch you do your magic again.”

“As milady wishes,” he said with a smile and a bow, and they went to the washroom/pantry to get what they needed. 

#

Astrid watched Hiccup as he busied himself with getting ingredients out of the two-meter-tall freezer unit.  He was loading up her arms with various chilly bundles and packages, plus cans and boxes from the storage shelves around them, and the look of energetic enthusiasm on his face was infectious.  She could feel herself perking up every time she looked him in the face. 

She could get used to seeing that expression.

Or at least she thought that she could.  Because that wasn’t a hypothetical any longer. 

She was so glad for Hiccup’s suggestion that they take it slow—or at least as slowly as they could manage.  They would be living together now.  That would give them the chance to even see if they were good for each other. 

But… as he bent over and grabbed a can of diced tomatoes from a lower shelf, and she saw his cute, firm butt outlined underneath his jeans…  She damn well _hoped_ that they were good for each other.

They returned to the kitchen carrying the pile of ingredients between the two of them.  Hiccup quickly put her to work on opening cans and packages as he brought the oven up to temperature and got out the mixing bowls, frying pan, cutting board and pie plates. 

As they worked, she asked, “Hiccup?  Why is the oven lined with stone?”  She’d spotted that earlier during the pizza baking, and had been meaning to ask him about it.

He grinned as he set the frying pan down on the cooktop, turned on the burner, and splashed the pan with some oil.  “Ma Kosti and I lined it; it makes it into a brick-lined oven, perfect for baking pizza and pie and stuff like that.  The stones help absorb the moisture, making the crust crispier, and they release the heat more slowly, so the stuff isn’t burned on the outside and raw on the inside.”  He patted the oven’s side like it was a well-behaved pet.  “Worth all of the effort it took.”

She laughed.  “So that’s why the pizza was so perfect?”

He nodded and started to dice the beef, the onions, and the kidneys.  She watched, entranced, as the knife flashed and the beef was reduced to small, even chunks.  He turned and, without missing a beat, put the beef into the frying pan, where it started to sizzle, releasing an aroma that made Astrid’s mouth water, although it also gave her a twinge of nausea.

Damn morning sickness.

Hiccup must have seen her wince or something, because he paused for a moment in his stirring of the meat and wordlessly opened a drawer and pulled out a soup spoon.  Giving the meat a quick flip, he walked over to her, plucked a fresh ginger root from one of the boxes they’d grabbed, and said, “Can I give you a job?”

“Please!” she said, grinning at him.

“Okay.  Here.  Let me show you how to peel ginger with a spoon,” he said, grinning, and stepped over to the garbage pail.

She gave him a skeptical look, but sat back—and then her jaw dropped open as he peeled the ginger root with quick, firm strokes, holding his thumb on the back of the spoon’s bowl and using the edge of the spoon like it was a knife.  The root was quickly cleaned of its skin, the strings of it ending up in the garbage pail. 

“That’s a nifty party trick,” she said, impressed.

He grinned.  “And if you can do it to the rest of this, I’ve got something in mind for you.”

“What’s that?” she asked, taking the spoon and the first ginger root.

“Fresh ginger ale syrup,” he said as he stepped back to the frying pan and gave the meat another stir. 

“Oooh,” she said, and then gave him a side-eyed glance.  “I’m going to get sick of ginger by the end of this, won’t I?”

“Not if I vary it up enough,” he said, taking out another pot and filling it with water and sugar.  “And some of that is going in the pies, too.  I think that it’ll help you keep it down.” 

She grinned and got to work.  The smell of the ginger helped calm her stomach, and she quickly got the hang of it. 

As she finished peeling the fifth ginger root, Hiccup commented, “It’s good practice for knife control, too.”  He was finishing with browning the diced kidneys, and had gotten out another frying pan.  In it was minced lamb, also browning.  The smell was mouthwatering.  Over the next few minutes, she and Hiccup put together the fillings for steak-and-kidney pie and shepherd’s pie in the two frying pans.  Then, finally, they added the stock to both pans and set them to simmering.  Hiccup stepped back from the cooktop, clapped his hands together, satisfied, and turned to her.  “Smell good?”

She nodded, and took a giant sniff.  “Gods, that’s good.  Now we just let it cook for the next forty-five minutes?”

“For the shepherd’s, yeah.  The steak-and-kidney need an hour and a half, and we need to top them off with more stock if too much evaporates,” he said, and he got down another pot.

“Then… could you set a timer?”

He nodded.  “First, though, there should be half a lemon in the fridge door.  Could you get it?”

She did so, and he quickly sliced the ginger into thin sections with one of his finely honed kitchen knives—it was actually a bit scary, realizing how sharp it had to be to be able to cut through the woody root with that much ease.  As he sliced it, the new pot on the cooktop was coming to a boil. 

“Stir that and make sure it doesn’t boil over, would you?” he asked as he worked at the ginger.  Taking up the whisk, she did so, and watched, fascinated, as the cloudy sugar water turned clear as it started to boil in earnest. 

“Turn it down to low now; we want the bubbles to be just breaking the surface, but not any more intense,” he instructed.  Grinning, she did as he told her, and then she stepped aside and he dumped the sliced ginger and the peel from the lemon into the pot. 

“There we go.  Let that cook for an hour, and we get candied ginger, candied lemon peel—awesome dipped in chocolate—and ginger syrup.  Add to some carbonated water, and boom, ginger soda.”

Astrid sniffed above the pot, and felt her mouth water.  “The perfect drink for a pregnant woman, in other words.”

“Yep.  All for you, milady,” Hiccup said with a smile.  He added a splash of stock to each of the frying pans, and set a timer on his phone. 

“And there we go.  We’ve got some time before making the pie crusts.  In the meantime, what did you want to do?” he asked her, a smile on his face. 

“Right now… I want to cuddle on that obscenely comfortable couch with you and make out,” she answered honestly.  “I don’t want to think about lawsuits, or my parents, or this pregnancy… I want to kiss you until I have to fight to keep from tearing off your clothes.”

Hiccup smiled at her and took her by the hand.  “I think we can manage that…”

They wandered into the lounge holding hands.  Astrid pulled him close as they stood in front of the couch and started to kiss him, even as a part of her broke out in anxiety at the fact that they were being affectionate in public.  _They could be seen._

She ruthlessly stomped on that fear and fed it into her excitement instead.  They could be seen—and the people who saw them would know that they were looking upon two people in love.  And if they passed judgment, that was their problem. 

She pushed him onto the couch, straddled him, and laid down on top of him.  His belt buckle dug into her waist as they kissed, her hands in his hair, his arms wrapped around her back.  They were barely breaking for air as they kissed, their tongues dueling and sending shots of pure arousal to her center, their lips rubbing sensually, their breath mingling.  She kissed his neck and moved down, pushing his shirt collar out of the way as she kissed and licked along.  Then on impulse, along his collarbone, she bit down with her teeth hard enough to leave a mark.

Hiccup jerked and moaned underneath her, and she jumped.  “Oh gods, did I hurt you?” she gasped, suddenly panic-stricken at the thought of having hurt him more, when he’d already taken so much pain for her.

“A little,” he said thickly, and then looked away.  “But… well… um… hi.  You just found one of my kinks.”

She glanced at the darkening tooth marks she had left, and then looked at his eyes.  He looked shamefaced, but his pupils were dilated and he looked aroused.

“Oh.”  She looked at the mark that she’d left; the indentations of her teeth were clearly visible on his skin.  “ _Oh.”_   Moving deliberately, she bent back down and kissed around his neck to the other side… and ever so slowly, bit down again on his collarbone.

He moaned and thrashed underneath her, making sounds of ecstatic pleasure as she sucked hard enough to leave her first real love bite. 

“Astrid… stop… I’m gonna…”

She backed off, feeling a little disappointed… but thinking to herself on the _possibilities_.  And _that_ was an enjoyable thought on its own.

She kissed him again, running her hands through his hair…

And then the timer chimed.

They both moaned out of disappointment, and Hiccup tried to roll to his feet—which were still trapped underneath her.  They fell off the couch in a laughing tangled pile of limbs.  Astrid tried to pull herself free, but it was difficult as she was laughing so hard that her eyes were tearing up, and she wasn’t exactly working very hard at letting him go, either.  He also seemed to be a bit reluctant, and judging by the tent in his jeans, walking at the moment would probably be exquisitely _uncomfortable_. 

Still laughing, she finally managed to detangle herself, and hopped to her feet fluidly. She bent down and helped him to his feet; the edge of the love bite she’d just given him was visible under the collar of his t-shirt, and she felt a flush of arousal at having marked him as hers—and he looked like he’d enjoyed it every bit as much. 

As they walked back to the kitchen, she muttered, a catch of laughter in her voice, “So… that’s one of your kinks, hmm?”

He flushed slightly.  “Yeah.  And that was one of the things I was freaking out about you possibly freaking out about… because of that,” he motioned to her cheek.

“Oh.”  The amusement and arousal faded in an instant, leaving behind the dull ache of her various bruises and pains.  “I… Hiccup, that’s different.”

“I know.  But not different enough to make me comfortable with bringing it up.”  He sighed and went to check the frying pans.  Astrid took up her seat on the breakfast bar stool again, and watched him work.

He clearly found it arousing… but he was so concerned for her wellbeing that he hadn’t brought it up for fear of hurting her. 

Gods, she loved him so much. 

* * *

 

**For the next chapter, I’m currently debating what to do with what I have drafted—specifically, extending out a specific scene or not.  It’s a “Show or Tell?” question, and I’m not sure which way to go with it.  Currently, it’s on “Tell”, so do I stick with it as is, or edit it to expand the scene?**


	12. Chapter 11: And The Cards All Fold

**Chapter 11: And The Cards All Fold**

 

Hours later, Hiccup looked at Astrid as they prepared to go to sleep.  She’d stolen his shirt that he’d changed into after they’d gotten home from the hospital—his Heavy Metals shirt was bloodstained and dirty, and set aside for cleaning—claiming that she’d heard that sleeping in your boyfriend’s shirt was like getting an all-night hug. 

He’d pointed out that they’d be hugging on the bed regardless, but she’d countered that it was therefore a double hug from him.  He’d accepted that point… and now she was wearing a shirt with Indiana Jones finding a familiar-looking figure sealed in a metal slab, hugging her curves. 

Twenty-four hours ago, he’d gotten a frantic message from her saying that she needed to come to him and hide from her parents, and asking if it was okay. 

Now…

Now they were sliding into bed, spooning like they’d been made for each other.  They were both hurt, aching, bruised, and sporting bandages or braces.  And yet… he was pretty sure that this would count as one of the best days in his life.

The woman he loved, loved him.  She was safe with him.  They were publicly in a relationship.  His father accepted her. 

He might… he might even be a father, if she decided to keep the baby.

As she nestled into his arms, he asked her quietly, “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine.  I haven’t had a bout of morning sickness in hours, I was able to keep the second slice of the pie down, and dinner was nice.”

As she flicked off the light, Hiccup sighed into her hair.  “‘Nice’?  That’s a polite way of saying, ‘Your Dad and Gobber spent an hour asking me questions about me.’”

“Yes… and they were polite, and you really can’t blame your dad for wanting to get to know his potential future daughter-in-law better,” she pointed out sleepily.  “And I think he likes me.”

“He’d better,” Hiccup said, only half-jokingly.  But she was right.  Stoick seemed very taken with Astrid in her own right, not just as Hiccup’s girlfriend and the mother of his grandchildren. 

But, hey, his Dad had to have a lick of taste, right? 

Gobber, for his part, had been astonishingly well behaved.  He’d kept the frequency of dirty insinuations and sly comments to less than one in every five minutes, nearly to the point of one every ten minutes, and the ones that he had delivered had actually been funny. 

_“Oi, lass, so what are you drinking there?”_

_“My new favorite.  Homemade ginger soda.”_

_Gobber glanced pointedly at Hiccup’s reddish hair as she took another drink.  “And here I thought that you were_ already _fond of gingers.”_

_Astrid sprayed out what was left of her swallow and Hiccup handed her a napkin as he tried unsuccessfully to keep from laughing as well._

But all of his ribbing had been friendly.  It was teasing meant to welcome her to the family; both Gobber and Stoick seemed to genuinely like her.  And that was good, because dinner had mostly been his father and his honorary uncle grilling his lover over who she was, what she did, and her personal history.  And Hiccup had heard them talking to each other when Astrid had needed to bolt to the bathroom in order to hurl from her morning sickness; he’d gone with her and helped hold her hair up out of the bowl. 

After dinner, Gobber and Stoick had taken over the lounge to watch sports on the TV, while he and Astrid had gone upstairs.  They’d made out again, and had ended up snuggling together, both of them too full from dinner and sore from the day to make anything more than a perfunctory attempt at starting a round of lovemaking.  They’d also tackled the social media scene, where they were still the hot gossip topic of the day; that had been less than fun.  He’d made his own post, basically a mirror of Astrid’s earlier post, laying out what the situation was… and it had admittedly been incredibly satisfying to make their relationship digitally official on their profiles.

 _Henry “Hiccup” Haddock: In A Relationship With: Astrid Hofferson_  

That had been _so_ very satisfying.

And thankfully her friends were doing a yeoman’s job in helping with damage control.  Ruffnut, in particular, seemed to be doing her best to make up for her earlier action. 

Still, he rather wanted to strangle certain someones for the nasty comments they were saying about Astrid—especially in congratulatory comments to him.  The worst one had been from one of the other guys in the chess club, who had complimented him with terms that made it sound like Astrid had been a wild beast that he’d hunted down—and Hiccup was cringing inside with anxiety about when he would find out the whole story, because Hans just thought that the furthest they’d gone was kissing. 

But the eyes of the whole student body were on them; not only were they from different social circles, they were also the valedictorian and salutatorian of their year, and that status was making the focus that much more intense. 

Some people were sighing at the romance of it—or at least what they imagined the romance of it was like, thinking that it was ‘just’ the two top students going out together.  Those were the nicest ones.  Others were making crass “study date” jokes… that hurt that much more for being actually somewhat accurate.  But he’d also received some sour grapes from those guys who felt that he was ‘poaching’, and that he shouldn’t be _allowed_ to date one of the more popular girls like Astrid.  Fortunately, there were very few of those, but one of their rants had been disturbing as fuck—Hiccup got the impression that Gaston found their relationship personally threatening to his own masculinity.  He’d deleted that one in a hurry. 

Mostly, though, it had been like playing Whack-A-Mole, just not as satisfying.  Fortunately, nobody seemed to yet know that she was staying with him.  If this was the reaction to a kiss…

How would they react to her living with him?  Or…

“You okay?” she asked.

“Just thinking.  About everything,” he admitted.  “If they hate us now… how will they act if they find out that you’re pregnant?”

“Worse,” she muttered.  “But fuck ‘em.”  She wiggled next to him, and giggled a bit as he moaned.  “I’ve got my Hiccup.”

“And I’ve got my Astrid,” he said back.

“Damn straight,” she said sleepily.  “So… alarms off?”

“Yep.”

“We have a lie-in tomorrow?”

“Dad said that he didn’t expect us to be up and about before eleven.”

They sighed happily in unison, and Astrid managed to snuggle in tighter to him somehow.  “I love you, Hiccup,” she breathed out softly.

“Love you, Astrid,” he muttered into her ear.  And they drifted off to sleep.

#

Astrid blinked blearily awake, her bladder screaming at her.  She glanced at the clock and moaned.  She’d slept for seven hours at most, probably more like six.  Pulling herself free of Hiccup’s embrace, she padded to the bathroom.  As she relieved herself, blinking tiredly, she startled as the reality of where she was penetrated the fog of sleep. 

It _hadn’t_ been one of the strange, intense and surreal dreams she’d been having for the last week.

She was in Hiccup’s house.

Gods.

 _Gods._  

He loved her.  They were seriously considering getting married—if not for the best of reasons, still considering it.  And his dad had basically already adopted her.

And… and she might be having Hiccup’s baby—and it was her decision on whether or not that happened.

She resolved to visit Gothi’s temple later in the week and give offerings to both Frigga and Freyja.  The goddesses for marriage, family, love, and sex had blessed her beyond her wildest dreams—and that included the strange dreams she’d been having all week—and needed to be honored for what they’d gifted her. 

With what, she didn’t know, but she’d find something for them. 

She finished up in the bathroom, and padded back to Hiccup’s… _their_ room.  Hiccup had emptied out a drawer in his wardrobe last night for what clothes she had, and they’d spent a few minutes watching funny videos on his desktop computer and folding her clothing. 

As she nestled herself back into the bed, Hiccup unconsciously wrapped his arms back around her and sleepily nuzzled at her neck.  She sighed happily and tried to get back to sleep…

Only to lay awake, staring at the clock for the next twenty minutes.  Her stomach was roiling with nausea, but was thankfully empty, and despite her best efforts to get back to sleep and have a proper lie-in, she was apparently now up for the day. 

After another twenty minutes had passed, she sighed, rolled out of bed and Hiccup’s arms.  Hiccup stirred slightly as her feet touched the floor, and she gently kissed him on the temple.  “Sleep, love.  I’ll be back,” she said, and went to get a glass of water and her next dose of anti-inflammatory meds for her neck.

She carefully went down the stairs—and froze when she realized that someone was already downstairs in the kitchen.  She managed to keep herself from hyperventilating at the thought of being _caught_ , but it was a near thing. 

“Lass?” Stoick’s voice called.

But she’d been caught regardless.

Swallowing hard against the lump in her throat, she walked down the last few steps… and realized as she reached the bottom that she was dressed in Hiccup’s t-shirt from last night, a single precious pair of panties from her limited supply, and nothing else.  And while it was long enough while she was standing…

Not the sort of thing she wanted to be dressed in while talking with her imposing lawyer… and likely future father-in-law… first thing in the morning.

Burying her fear like she’d done whenever her father had called her in for a dressing down, she walked into the kitchen with her back straight and her eyes forward.  “Yes?”

Stoick was standing at the middle of the kitchen by the coffee pot—and the smell of the coffee hit her.

And she gagged and bolted for the bathroom next to the lounge.  She had just enough presence of mind to remember to close the door behind her so as not to give Stoick a view of her nearly bare ass.  She dry-heaved over the toilet bowl as she heard Stoick, concerned, on the other side of the door. 

“Lass?  Are you okay?”

“Coffee… smell…” she gasped out between heaves.

There was silence on the other side of the door, and then she heard a window open; a chill draft rolled under the door a few moments later, just as she was vomiting up the last of the bile in her gut. 

She gasped for air, and slowly and shakily got to her feet.  She wished Hiccup was there.  Last night, he had been there through the whole bout of morning sickness during dinner, and she had loved him for it. 

But when she opened the door, Stoick was standing there, a glass of water held sheepishly in his hands—which he immediately handed to her.  She took it, washed her mouth out, and spat the foul water into the sink.  “Thanks,” she said, her voice a little gravelly. 

“Aye, I remember when Valka…”  He trailed off and blushed slightly.  “Lass… Astrid.  You’re alright?”

She nodded.  “Woke up early to use the bathroom, couldn’t sleep, came down to take my pain meds.”

“Ah.  Um… so.”  He stepped back and motioned her out.  They walked the few steps to the kitchen, and he wordlessly handed her the bottle of pills.  She took two tablets and downed them with the remaining water, and noted that Stoick was drinking coffee from one of those travel mugs—the kind that sealed the drink away unless a thumb-lever was pressed.  She shivered from the chill air in the kitchen, but at least the smell was gone. 

They drank in awkward, yet companionable silence.  Then Stoick stood and started a kettle of water.  “Tea?”

“Yes, please,” she said gratefully.

He looked at her for a moment, and then said awkwardly, “So… Lass.  I won’t ask yet… but given that this is our first chance to talk together…”

She felt her stomach clench in fear, remembering the kind interrogation from last night, and all of the questions he’d asked.  “Yes?”

“I… I need to know.  To understand.  Why… why my son?”

She turned and looked at him.  He at least had the decency to look ashamed for his question.  “What do you mean?”

“He…”  Stoick swallowed.  “I don’t want to be insulting.  But yesterday morning, when I was in Heathrow, as far as I knew, my son was a single man, with no interest in dating.  Now… now you’re here.  In his clothes.  Carrying his child.  And you’ve admitted that you’ve been lovers for months.”

Astrid blushed.  Since her sixteenth birthday, actually.  Hiccup had joked that she’d unwrapped him… and they’d given each other their virginities that day. 

Stoick continued, not knowing of her thoughts.  “So… why my son?  I understand that he was the only man your father allowed you to have contact with… but there’s more to it than that, isn’t there?”

She nodded—and the kettle started to whistle. 

Stoick turned and busied himself with brewing her a cup of Irish Breakfast, and she took the moment to get her thoughts, such as they were, in order. 

He set the mug down in front of her and she wrapped her hands around it, and sighed in relief at the warmth. They sat in silence for a few minutes as her tea steeped and she added sugar and milk.  That done, she looked up at Stoick.  “Sir… Stoick?  Mr. Haddock?  What do I call you when you’re not lawyering?”

He laughed softly.  “Stoick will do.  And… maybe one day… ‘Dad’.”  He smiled at her, and the lump of anxiety in her gut unknotted itself somewhat. 

“Okay.  So… Stoick.  I love your son.  I love him enough that if my father took him hostage, I’d go back to that house willingly.  And, yes, I considered that yesterday when we were in the hospital waiting room, so that’s not hyperbole.”

Stoick paused as she finished, and then said, “And while I pray that will never happen, I appreciate hearing it.  But what I’m trying to understand is _why._   Why do you love him so?”

She sighed and drank a mouthful of her tea.  Running it around her tongue, she ran her thoughts around as well.  She swallowed, the tea pooling warmly in her stomach, quieting it somewhat.  Then she said softly, “Stoick… are you familiar with the idea of the ‘Nice Guy’?”

“Let’s assume that I don’t—because I probably don’t.  Go ahead.”

She took a deep breath, steeled herself, and said, “A ‘Nice Guy’ is the kind of man who aspires to barely clear the level of minimum behavior in regards to women.  He thinks that, just because he acts in a polite manner, girls will flock to him to reward him with sex—and when we don’t, he reverts back to his true colors.  And when we call them on it, they go, ‘I can’t be sexist!  I’m a Nice Guy!’”  She took another sip.  “As someone else put it, that’s like deciding to go see a movie because the plain poster says, ‘The words will be in English.  There will be plot.  The actors will wear costumes.’”

Stoick snorted. 

“Exactly!” she said.  “Like, what else is there?  Congrats, you’ve cleared the bare minimum!  But is the acting decent?  Are the costumes well done?  What is the plot about?  Or… in the context of a relationship… what else do you bring to it?”  She looked Stoick straight in the eye.  “And so… I need to tell you, sir… your son is not a ‘Nice Guy.’”  She took another deep steeling breath.  “He’s a _good man._   And _his_ movie should, by all rights, be a Hollywood blockbuster.”  She put the mug down and motioned with her hands for emphasis.  “He speaks three languages fluently, and parts of two more.  He’s skilled with computers.  He’s a gourmet cook.  He’s knowledgeable enough to be the class valedictorian.  And…” she felt her cheeks heat, but she said levelly, “he’s a skilled and considerate lover.”

Stoick blushed and coughed.  “I did not need to hear that.”

She shook her head.  “Yes, you do.  Sir… Stoick.  He’s been a complete gentleman, more concerned about my pleasure than his own, and you need to _understand_ just how exceptional that makes him, not just on his own, but in comparison with all of those around him.  He is _not_ a ‘Nice Guy.’  He _is_ a good man.  He does his acts of kindness and consideration because it is who he is, not because he’s looking to get laid.  It is _who_ he is, and it is why I love him.  He gave me his heart… and I gave him mine.  And that’s in spite of…”  she trailed off, rubbed at her face, and said more quietly, “He accepted a, a degree of…” how to describe blanking him? “public social ostracism from me over the last ten months which I can only look at in awe, and he did it for my sake.  He was my dirty little secret, my private boyfriend, and he accepted it all because of my parents.”  She picked up the mug and took another drink of her tea just to force herself to slow down.  “Can you imagine a teenaged boy willing to stay silent about being with a girl for her sake?” 

Stoick shook his head.  “No…  I guess not.”

“Yeah.  But he was.  He is so selfless that I want to wrap him up in the entire upstairs closet’s worth of blankets to keep the world from hurting him more.  So, yes, it may have started because he was the only man I was allowed to be with…  but _now_ it is me being in love with a man that I feel that I do not deserve his love after the treatment I gave him.  Treatment, I will point out, that _he has forgiven me for._ I fully intend to visit Frigga and Freyja’s altars at my next opportunity to give them thanks—because your son’s quality and love and devotion is such that I can only see it as a direct blessing of the gods that I do not deserve… and yet have anyway.”  She looked him dead in the eye.  “Does that answer your question?”

Stoick stared at her, and then she saw a tear leak from the corner of his eye.  “Yes… yes it does.  Thank you… Astrid.”

She smiled at him.  “I feel like I lucked into finding him.  Really, I do.”  A phrase from one of the articles that Hiccup had shown her yesterday from that relationship advice site rang through her mind.  _Healthy relationships are like a seller’s market—everyone wants one, but not everyone has one._   “I’ve seen too many of my classmates make themselves unhappy with bad relationships.  Now that I found a good one… I’m sticking with him.”

Stoick’s big bushy eyebrows rose up.  “So you’ve decided then?”

She shook her head.  “Not yes or no, not yet.  Not on anything.  What we did decide was not to decide.  We’re going to use the time you bought us with those court orders to make sure that we’re _good_ for each other.”  She smiled slightly and crookedly at him.  “So we’re going to date publicly.  We’re going to do the stuff that couples do with each other.  We’re going to try to live together and see how well we fit… because we both agreed that going from ‘secret relationship’ to ‘married’ was… too big a leap.”  She patted her belly.  “And we haven’t decided here either… but…”  she looked at him, and felt a lump form in her throat at the naked hope in his eyes, “but I need to know first.  How would you react if I said, ‘No’?”

Stoick sucked in a breath.  “You… you have…”  He turned away and leaned on the countertop nearby with both hands. 

“I deserve an answer, Stoick,” she said resolutely.  “You might be Hiccup’s father, but you aren’t my father-in-law—not now, not yet, and while unlikely, possibly not ever—and you _are_ my lawyer, by your own promise.  Not the _fetus’s_ lawyer.”

He turned and glared at her, a moment of brief anger on his face that made her freeze… and flashback to the memories of seeing the same expression on her father’s face. 

“Astrid?  Are you alright?” he asked, the temper shifting in an instant to concern.

“I… I… I…” she stammered, not really seeing him—just seeing Cameron Hofferson’s angry expression. 

He reached towards her, and she cringed back, almost jumping out of the chair—and then hopping out of it, keeping the table between him and her.  Her pulse was pounding in her ears and she was hyperventilating.

“Lass…?  Oh, gods.”  He looked at her, raised his hands, open, up by his head, and deliberately stepped back.  “Astrid… I swear that I will not hurt you.  You’re safe here.  I’m sorry.  Please…” he said as she tried to get her breathing under control. 

She looked at him, her chest heaving, her heart in her throat.  He looked contrite.  “I made a promise… and I was irritated that you were questioning it.  But you were right to ask it.”  He laced his fingers together and put his hands behind his head, up and out of the way.  “And I swear that I am _your_ lawyer… not the child’s.  You have my word.”  He looked at her with concern, and she brought herself out of the defensive crouch that she hadn’t even realized she had entered.  “If nothing else… I want to protect the young woman who loves my son… and who went to his rescue from someone that, that clearly traumatized you.”  He backed away a bit more.  “Please, lass… I am not your father.  I will not hurt you.”

She gulped air and nodded furtively.  “It’s… it’s _hard._ ”

Stoick closed his eyes and nodded.  “I understand.  But, seeing you now?  Lass… Astrid.  If a moment of anger on my part, quickly doused, was enough to trigger that—” he nodded towards her and the empty chair, “then I have the other part of my question from before answered.  You love Henry more than you fear your father.  And I just saw… how much you fear him.”  He reached out gently, and and asked, “May I?”

She nodded. 

He approached her cautiously.  Then, reaching out with one hand, he cupped her cheek softly, and gave her a kind hug with the other.  She held herself tense, even as she appreciated the touch.  But it would have been so much better coming from Hiccup. 

“First and foremost… I will advocate for a young woman whose bravery has impressed me, and who has clearly survived abuse, and help her against her abuser.”  He released her and stepped back.  “If, later, that young woman becomes my daughter-in-law… or even the mother of my grandchild… that will only enhance that initial basis.  But they are not necessary.”  He reached down and lifted up her chin, meeting her eyes with his own.  “You have my word.”

She nodded, swallowed, and shakily stepped back to her seat, picking back up the mug of tea in trembling hands.  Taking a gulp, she said, “Okay.  That answers my question.  And as for the baby… I… I don’t know.  I want it… but I’m not stupid.  I know that this is a life-changing decision.”  She looked down at the mug and said morosely, “Of all of the things I thought I might be in my life, ‘Teenaged mother’ was not on the list.”

That left a moment of silence in the kitchen.

Then Stoick said softly, “If you decide that now is not the time… I’ll understand.  And you’re young.  There will be other chances.  I just… I apologize for my lapse.  It was unprofessional of me and I caused you pain as well.”

She nodded tiredly.  “I forgive you.  It’s… it’s hard to discuss this.”

“That it is.  So… is Henry still asleep?”

She let the change of topic go.  “Yeah.  Out like a light.”  She looked at him briefly.  “So what’s the plan for the day?”

“Well, I’m expecting Alvin to show up at some point to start the dance.  He’s going to advise your father to try to get us to settle things out of court, because the courts are slow and expensive.  I, of course, _want_ this to go to court for the same reasons.”  He looked her over, and an awkward expression rose on his face.  “Um… Lass?”

“Mmmh?”

“I just realized—are you wearing Henry’s clothes because you don’t have…”

She nodded.  “I came here with one backpack and whatever layers I could move in.  I don’t have a coat, shoes, or anything else like that.  Just two pairs of jeans, a skirt, and t-shirts and underwear for about a week.”  She took a gulp of tea.  “Hiccup and I put together an online purchase for most of the basics, but we forgot to finish ordering it yesterday with everything that happened.”

Stoick nodded and scowled.  “I’ll see what I can do about getting you your possessions then—or at least enough of them that you’ll be functional.  School uniforms before vacation ends, for certain.”

“Assuming that we don’t just get booted from the school,” she pointed out. 

“Assuming that, yes,” he agreed.  “But you can’t just be summarily dismissed for dating one another.”

“And if my father goes to the administration and tries to get us both kicked out over the pregnancy?”

“Then we handle that when it comes to it,” Stoick said firmly.  “In the meantime, I have a great deal of leave accumulated, and while there are cases and court appearances that I cannot suspend, I expect that I will be using up a great deal of what I have saved up.”

She nodded.  “I appreciate that.  And… um…”  She bit her lip and said, “So… I have a question.”

“Aye?”

“Does the fact that… that Hiccup and I are lovers bother you?”

Stoick covered his face with his hand, rubbed at his eyes, and snorted.  “No.  It _surprises_ me, and I won’t deny that hearing you two yesterday was… surreal.  In the extreme.”

She blushed slightly, but smiled at him.  “I don’t want to be rude, but… well… get used to it?  Especially since… well, given that your first piece of advice yesterday was for us to get married.”  She took a gulp of the cooling tea to hide her smile.  “I _think_ that such activity is expected from married couples.”

Stoick, his hand still on his face, started to laugh.  “Aye, I suppose that it is.  Just… as I said, yesterday morning, my image of my son was…”  He trailed off in suppressed chuckles.

“A geek, nerd, and unattractive to the female sex?” she suggested sweetly. 

“…aye,” Stoick said, sounding pained.

“Well, two out of three isn’t bad,” she said pointedly.  “And, yes, when we’re done talking, I’m planning on going upstairs and going back to bed with him.  And maybe even sleeping some more.”

Stoick flushed.  “That’s blunt.”

“I’m not going to hide it.  I love him.  And, hey, we have a room,” she said cheerfully.  “So… does it bother you?”

Stoick sighed and put his arms crossed in front of him, and looked at her flatly.  “No.  Not more than the privacy aspects do.  I’m happy for you both, and I just ask that you be considerate with the noise, same as if you were watching a movie on the telly too loudly.”

She finished her mug of tea, put it down on the table, and stood.  “That, I think, is quite fair,” she said lightly.  As she went to the door to the kitchen, she turned.  “Stoick?”

“Aye?”

“Before I go… thank you.  For everything.  For your support… your acceptance… your help.”

“Ah, lass, thank _you_.”

“What for?”

“You love and cherish my son… who is the most important person in the world to me.”  He smiled at her.  “And I’ll even forgive the sass and boundary-pushing, because I can tell that you’re doing it to see if I’m safe to be around.  And I apologize for my temper before.  Now… you get some rest.  And when Henry wakes up, tell him that he’s a fool if he lets you get away.”

She grinned.  “He’s not a fool.” 

As Stoick chuckled behind her, she turned and went back to the stairs.  Maybe it was her imagination, but she felt like the medicine was kicking in—her neck felt less sore, although the brace was definitely helping. 

Entering Hiccup’s room, she smiled at the cocooned lump on the bed, his foot sticking out of the end, his prosthesis and the vacuum pump he used to secure the cup to his stump sitting nearby.

She went over to the bed, sat, and scooched herself back into his arms, which tightened around her as soon as she settled back into them.

“Mmmh?” sounded in her ear as she put her head on the pillow. 

“Go back to sleep, babe,” she said, a smile on her face.  “I’m here.”

“Mmmh,” came the mumble, and he apparently didn’t need any more convincing than that as she felt him slacken a bit back into sleep.

 


	13. Chapter 12: And The Saints We See

**Chapter 12: And The Saints We See**

 

Hiccup blinked and wanted to die. 

“Owww…” he moaned.

In front of him, Astrid laughed lightly.  “Oh, come on.  It’s not that bad!” she said cheerfully, gloriously nude under the shower spray. 

Hiccup glared at her for a moment, which made her laugh a bit more as she soaped up her hands.  “That offer of sharing some of the pain meds is still on the table,” she said. 

He moaned again; he would say that his whole body felt like one giant bruise, but that would makes the bruises on his back and gut agitate for recognition above and beyond the rest.  At least the hot water of the shower was helping, soothing away the soreness.  And just like he’d taken care of Astrid yesterday, apparently today it was his turn.  She fussed over him and washed him all over as he sat on the small bathroom stool that they’d moved into the bathtub. 

He’d woken up a little while earlier feeling like… well, like he’d been on the receiving end of a beating the day before.  And it hurt.  His head ached, there was a burning pain feeling from the back of his head where Mister Hofferson had bashed it open, his back was dotted with little bruises, his entire left forearm had a long bruise from where he’d landed on it, and there was a black bruise that was close to fifteen centimeters across below his ribs, from the combination of her dad’s punch and Snotlout’s. 

Meanwhile, Astrid, while she was obviously in pain as well, wasn’t hurting as much.  She’d already been awake when he’d finally opened his eyes, and had proceeded to kiss him enthusiastically.  Or, at least she had, until he’d moaned in pain from just how sore he was.  But that hadn’t stopped him from kissing her back. 

Before they’d stepped into the shower, Hiccup had admired the love bite she’d given him in the mirror; it was the one bruise on his body that didn’t really hurt.  And he’d gotten it from her because she loved him… not from someone else because they wanted to hurt him.

So now they were showering together—or, more precisely, Astrid was showering him, and taunting him every so often by humorously and sensually standing under the warm spray and playing up the cascades of soap and water running over her body.  That had led to the natural result, and she’d offered to help him with that too—but when it became obvious that her neck was still sore, he’d put a stop to the blowjob she’d been giving him.  So it had shifted to a handjob instead—and then she’d gone and washed herself clean under the showerhead, grinning at him teasingly the whole while.

For the moment, though, they were almost done.  “I’ll consider it,” he said for the fifth time, “but they’re for you.”

She rolled her eyes and crouched in front of him.  “Hey.  They gave me a two week’s supply for something that should heal in the next week.  That means there’s enough for you, too.”

“Let me see if ibuprofen is good enough first,” he said wearily. 

She sighed and kissed his cheek.  “Gobber was right last night when he called you and Stoick both boar-headed stubborn Vikings.”

“Ayep,” he drawled.  “He’d know.  He’s just as bad.”

There was suddenly the sound of the front door opening, and they both heard off-key singing from a man and a woman.  Hiccup resisted the urge to facepalm, but it was a close thing.

“What… who is it?”

“That’s Gobber and Ma Kosti.  They must have just gotten back from a grocery run.”

“Wait, I thought Gobber was gay!” she said, confused.

“Brother and sister,” he explained as the singing from downstairs continued on how they were Vikings through and through.  “Her sons—Gobber’s nephews—are in the Army.  Nice guys, and she had a bad case of empty nest syndrome when they enlisted.”

“Oohhh,” Astrid said, light dawning in her eyes.  “So she helped raise you?”

“Yep,” Hiccup said.  “And I’m sure…” he deliberately ran his eyes up and down her body, “Gobber’s already told her _everything._ ”

She clapped her hands to her mouth and a giggle escaped.  “Oh no.”

“Yep.  Prepare to be fussed over,” he said, and with a grunt of effort, got to his feet.  And swayed.  And then Astrid was there, steadying him.

“Thanks,” he said breathlessly.  “Also, ow.”

She helped him get out of the tub and they dried off as the singing continued from downstairs.  Finally, he wrapped a towel around his waist as she shrugged on his robe.  Hiccup took a moment to appreciate the sight of his girlfriend dressed in his Doctor Who robe.  He was going to have to find her one of her own at some point that was sufficiently nerdy, just so that he could relish the appalled look on her face. 

She reached over and ran her nails up along his stomach and chest, making him shiver and goosebumps raise all along his skin.  “So… what’s the plan?”

“For us?  We get dressed, we go downstairs, we endure getting teased and fussed over by Gobber and Ma Kosti, we have brunch, and then I vote that we make a giant bowl of popcorn, raid Netflix for some good movies, and relax.”

She smirked.  “What?  No Netflix and chill?” 

He rolled his eyes at her.  “We could do that too, but I think Dad might take exception.”

“Yeah.  He asked me this morning not to have sex or movies too loud,” she said, and the delivery was so smooth that it took several moments for exactly what she’d said to fully penetrate Hiccup’s thoughts.

He whirled and staggered.  “Say what?”

She grinned.  “I woke up early this morning to use the bathroom, went down to take my meds, and ran into your dad.  And we talked.  And he said that he doesn’t have any problem with us having sex, but to please keep the noise down.”  She glanced him up and down.  “Huh.  Wow.  You _do_ blush all over!”

He glared at her, making her break out in peals of laughter.  His glare broke after a few moments and he joined in.  “Oh, gods, he really said that?”

“Pretty much in those exact words, yep,” she said, grinning.  She reached over and pulled him into a hug.  “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he whispered, and gave her a kiss.  “Gods.  Dad really said that it was okay for us to just…”

“Fuck?  Yeah.  Especially after I pointed out that, I _think_ such activities are seen as normal between married couples—and that _was_ his opening suggestion yesterday.”

Hiccup just looked at her, stunned.  “You… you…”

“No, I’m pretty sure that’s a ‘we’ thing,” she said, waggling her eyebrows.  “Unless you want to do it alone, but I can think of better things for your hands to be doing.”

Hiccup continued to stare at her as she gave him a too-innocent smirk, and then they both broke out into more laughter. 

They walked out of the bathroom and darted to the bedroom, still laughing—as the adults downstairs paused.  And then Gobber’s voice called out, “Hoy!  Henry!  Astrid!  Come on down!  We need your help with the groceries!”

“One sec!” Hiccup called down the stairs and then shut the door to the bedroom. 

Astrid had already stripped out of the robe and was pulling on underwear.  Hiccup blinked at the sight in front of him and then, when Astrid glanced at him, mimed rolling up his tongue. 

She rolled her eyes and threw a shirt from his drawer at him.  “Get dressed.  If we don’t get down there ASAP, we’ll never hear the end of it.”

“Oh, if we get down there too quickly, we’ll still get teased,” Hiccup said, pulling on a pair of boxers.  “‘Aye, lad, lass, what, you’re finished already?’”

“If he says that, I’ll tell him that we started last night and just finished,” she said with a wry smirk. 

“Oh, please don’t encourage him,” Hiccup said, chuckling and sat down to pull on his socks. 

“And here I was wondering how long we could actually go for…” she said, pulling her shirt on.  “Think of it, Hiccup.  Next time your dad has to head out for a court case… we’ll have the house to ourselves…”

Hiccup grinned at her.  “Yep.  I like this idea.”  

They finished dressing, shared a last kiss, and walked downstairs, holding hands. 

In the kitchen was Gobber and Ma Kosti, unpacking bags and laughing together.  They looked up at his and Astrid’s footsteps. 

Ma Kosti looked at Astrid and came over.  “Ah, here she is!  I finally get to meet you!”  She came up to Astrid and reached out, paused, and then said, “May I?”

Astrid, clearly bracing herself, nodded. 

Ma Kosti made a wordless exclamation, took Astrid by the arms, and looked her over.  “I was wondering when Henry would tell me about you.”

Hiccup blinked.  “Wait, you knew?”

She turned and gave him a sardonic look.  “Henry.  I raised three other boys before I helped raise you.  Did you really think that I wouldn’t notice the signs, the sighs, the furtiveness, the dreamy looks?”

Astrid giggled. 

“So, you’re Astrid,” Ma Kosti said, turning back to her and patting her hair.  “Well, let me look at you.  Gobber already filled me on the who’s and why’s, don’t you worry.”

“And… and you’re not mad?” Hiccup asked, incredulous.

She sighed as she released Astrid.  “Well, I was hoping that you would be a _little_ more careful, but what’s done is done, and besides…”  She eyed the pair of them up and down.  “In less than two years, you’ll be an adult, same as my boys.”  She smirked.  “I consider this to be job security.”

Astrid choked. 

Ma Kosti looked at her and waggled her eyebrows.  “Ah, lass, I know that you’re dealing with so much stress right now.  So let me tell you this much: if you do decide to have the baby, know that I’ll be there to help.  You won’t be alone.  So if that’s a worry that you have, you can set it aside.”  She reached out and clapped Hiccup on the shoulder—right where the love bite was under his shirt.  “I helped raise Hiccup here, and I think I did a good job.”

Hiccup blushed, and Astrid turned to him and gave him an assessing look.  “Yeah, I think so.”  And then she looked at Ma Kosti; she was very much a female version of Gobber, tall, broad, and blond, although she at least had all of her limbs.  “And… Ma Kosti?  Thanks.  That does help.”

“Glad to hear it.  Now, you two can help put things away.  We’ve got some cooking to do!”

Hiccup laughed.  Ma Kosti had repeatedly refused to accept money from his dad in exchange for helping with raising him, so Stoick had come up with a different way to pay her—the big fancy kitchen, which never could have fit into her place.  So she came to cook for her family, for the temple, for the various community needs—and had taught Hiccup starting when he’d been a little boy. 

Gobber retreated to the office with Stoick while Hiccup and Astrid had a quick bite to eat—some oatmeal and plain toast for Astrid, some creamed herring on toast for Hiccup, and tea for both of them—and then joined Ma Kosti in putting away the groceries.  Gobber and his sister had clearly just come from the bulk food warehouse store on the mainland, and Hiccup put away the multi-kilo packages of cans on the appropriate shelves, just as he’d been doing since he was a boy.  Tomatoes, corn, beans, sauces…

At one point, Ma Kosti cornered him in the pantry while Astrid was getting more packages out of the car.

Feeling the arm that suddenly clamped onto his shoulder, he turned, and looked up at the woman who was half his mother-figure and half an eccentric aunt.  Swallowing, he said, “So… um… what do you think of her?”

“From what I’ve seen so far, she is completely in love with you,” Ma Kosti said seriously.  “And for you… I remember how your father looked at your mother.”  She cuffed him lightly on the shoulder.  “You have a real chance here for both of you.  Don’t mess it up.”

“I’m going to try not to,” Hiccup said earnestly, and then the door opened—and he heard Astrid yelling angrily.

“Uh oh.”  He ran for the door, half-formed fears of her dad trying to kidnap her from the driveway again racing through his mind. 

He peeled around the corner at speed—

“Snotlout!  Let go!” he heard her call out, sounding furious. 

“I got it, Astrid!”

—and turned down the hallway to the front door.  Snotlout had the door propped open with one foot and was trying to take the twenty-two-kilo sack of flour away from Astrid, with the equal-sized sack of sugar already slung under one arm. 

“Let go!” she said angrily, not releasing her grip on the sack of flour. 

Hiccup barreled down the hallway—and saw the thick paper of the bag tear open as they struggled over it.

The flour dumped all over the front steps, and both of them, and they both went falling backwards.  He managed to catch Astrid from hitting her head on the flagstone steps, and there was a meaty thud as his cousin fell to the ground—not helped by the sack of sugar of sugar landing on him. 

Snotlout groaned and gasped, the wind obviously knocked out of him—and then inhaled some of the cloud of flour, and started to cough.

Hiccup, meanwhile, was helping Astrid get back to a standing position.  “You alright, Ast?”

“Yeah, I’m fine.”  She glanced at the mound of flour on the step in front of the door.  “Gods, what a waste and what a mess.”

Snotlout was trying to both cough and gasp for air at the same time and was turning bright red as he succeeded at neither.  The twenty-two kilos of sugar sitting on his chest probably wasn’t helping. 

“Can I leave him there?” Astrid asked hopefully.

“If he dies, imagine all of the forms we’d have to fill out and queues we’d have to stand in,” Hiccup pointed out. 

“Damn.  You’re right.”  She sighed, knelt, and grabbed the sack of sugar.  Hiccup then hauled his cousin to his feet. 

Snotlout stood there for a moment, leaning on Hiccup as he heaved for air.  Astrid went inside with the sack of sugar.  Hiccup called after her, “Bring the broom, a dustpan and a trashbag!”

“Okay!”

Finally, Snotlout seemed to catch a breath—and then spasmed into a truly impressive bing of coughing.  Hiccup tried to steady him, but Snotlout fell away from him—and into the pile of flour.  A white cloud billowed up, which triggered more coughing. 

Hiccup stepped back and sighed. 

Astrid came up a moment later; she was covered in flour, and had the cleaning supplies.  Grinning slightly evilly, she stepped forward and started to sweep the flour up—and not accidentally making more clouds of flour right in Snotlout’s face.  Hiccup’s cousin, for his part, looked like a ghost, he was so covered in white powder.  Underneath it, however, he was turning bright red. 

Sighing, Hiccup hauled him to his feet again.  “Please don’t die.  I don’t want to have to explain to Uncle what happened to you.”

Snotlout, still coughing, flipped him the bird. 

Hiccup shrugged and stepped back.  “Sorry, but you’re not my type.” 

Devoid of support, Snotlout wobbled and shot him a betrayed look in-between coughs.

Then Astrid said in a cheerful tone, “Besides, he’s mine.”

“Yep,” Hiccup said, and gave Snotlout a solid pat on the shoulder, nearly sending his cousin sprawling.  “Here, let me help you with that, milady,” he said as he came over and picked up the dustpan.  They worked together as Snotlout braced himself against the nearby wall, still coughing.

They had just finished with cleaning up the spilled flour when Snotlout, his breathing mostly under control again, asked, “What’s she doing here?”

“Uh… he’s my boyfriend?” Astrid said pointedly.

“Bullshit,” Snotlout coughed out, and then sucked in a deep breath and said in a more normal voice, “Bullshit.  I talked with your dad and he said that he wasn’t.  That you’d run away—”

Astrid threw the broom at him.  “Fucking really I ran away!” she said, and started to charge at Snotlout.  Hiccup jumped forward and held her back—even if he really wanted to let her go to town on Snotlout.  So she shouted in Hiccup’s ear at Snotlout, “He’d just hit me and locked me in my room!  Of course I ran away from there and to Hiccup!”

“But—”

Hiccup stepped between them.  “That’s enough!  Astrid, let’s go ask Ma Kosti if she needs more flour.” 

She grunted in agreement, and they stepped inside.

#

 

Snotlout, of course, followed them in.  Astrid scowled, and considered getting Stoick to throw him out.  Possibly literally.  The big man could probably throw his pint-sized relative a fair distance.

“What do you _want,_ Snotlout?” Hiccup asked, exasperated. 

“I want to know why— _how_ —you managed to convince Astrid into running away and saying that she’s your girlfriend,” Snotlout said, dusting the flour off of himself with quick, brusque motions. 

Astrid scoffed before turning back at Snotlout.  “Why… how… Do you _seriously_ think that?”

“Hey, look!  You gotta admit, the idea that a girl like you wants a _hiccup_ like him is pretty out there!” Snotlout said.  “And your dad—”

“My father?!  My father is an abusive asshole who treats me like shit, Lout!” Astrid yelled at him.  “Do you see this?  Huh?  Do you?” she pointed to her face.  “My father _hit me_ when he found out that I was dating Hiccup!  What, what did he tell you, that if you got me to come back, he’d let you date me?”

Snotlout suddenly had a concerned look that told her that she’d hit home.

“Fuck that!  I’m not his to give away!” she yelled, and balled her hand into a fist.

Then Hiccup was pulling her away from him, and Ma Kosti was standing there in the living room doorway.  “Gary,” she said flatly.

Astrid watched in surprise as Snotlout seemed to deflate.  “Oh, um… Hi Ma Kosti.  I, uh, I saw your car out front and figured that I’d help—”

“And how did that go?” Astrid asked acidly.  “Oh _right_.  One sack of wasted flour.”

“You could have let me help!”

“ _You_ could have _asked,_ instead of treating me like I’m helpless!” she roared. 

“And I think that’s enough,” Ma Kosti’s voice cut in.  “Astrid, can you finish emptying the car?  Gary, if you want to help and stay for lunch, you can, but you have to behave yourself.  And Henry…” she sighed.  “Make them behave?”

Astrid shot Ma Kosti a pleading look, and was met with a bland expression and a genteel wave. 

Meanwhile, Snotlout was looking at Hiccup.  “What are we having for lunch?” he asked hopefully.

Hiccup sighed.  “Well, we _were_ planning on having fresh bread—”

Snotlout made a noise like Toothless trying to convince her yesterday that he should be allowed to have some of the People Food.

“—and Ma Kosti was planning on making some big batches of Cullen skink and Scotch broth, plus rumbledethumps for everyone,” Hiccup said. 

Astrid felt her mouth start to water.  Thick fish chowder _and_ thick meat stew _and_ comfort food like rumbledethumps?  Made by Hiccup’s cooking teacher?  Yes please! 

Meanwhile, Snotlout looked like he was having identical thoughts. 

Hiccup looked at her and Snotlout.  “So, what do you say, Gary?  Is a Ma Kosti lunch worth not hassling Astrid?”

Snotlout made a noise of protest, and then bowed his head.  “Sorry.”

“Sorry _what?_ ” Hiccup pressed.

“Sorry Astrid,” Snotlout said.  “But… I… I just don’t understand how…”

“Uh uh uh!” Hiccup scolded.  “You were doing so well.”

Snotlout scowled at him. 

Hiccup sighed as Astrid rolled her eyes.  “Snotlout,” she said, “what would it take to convince you that I _want_ to date Hiccup?”

Snotlout blinked, and stared at her dumbly.  “Huh?”

“I’m serious,” she asked, her hands on her hips, the trash bag of flour still dangling from one hand.  “What would it take for you to believe that I _want_ to be with Hiccup?”

Snotlout blinked again, still staring at her like she was speaking a foreign language. 

She rolled her eyes, handed the trash bag off to Hiccup, and said to Snotlout, “There’s still more in the car.  _You_ can get the potatoes.”  There was a fifty-kilo sack of them in the boot.

That seemed to penetrate, and he nodded and followed her out as Hiccup rolled his eyes and took the flour to the trash pails on the side of the house.

Snotlout hauled the sack of potatoes out of the boot and slung them across his shoulders, clearly posturing.

Astrid rolled her eyes and grabbed the second sack of flour out of the boot. 

“Is it the food?” Snotlout suddenly asked as they were walking back to the front door.

“Is _what_ the food?” she replied, irritated.

“Why you’re dating Hiccup.  Ma Kosti taught him to cook—”

“I didn’t even know that he was a good cook until I showed up two nights ago, running from my father, and he fed me,” she said flatly.  “It’s nice, but that’s not why.”

“Then _why?”_ he asked plaintively.  “What does he got that I don’t?”

“Kindness, consideration, manners… _a brain…_ ”

“Don’t tell me that you like—”

“What?  That he’s not a muscle-bound idiot like you?” she sniped.  “In fact, I _do.”_

“But… but…” he stammered as they entered the house.

“But what?  Snotlout, this might come as a surprise, but no girl is going to fall down at your feet and spread her legs for you because you flexed your muscles at her,” she said acidly. 

He blinked at her crassness, and they deposited their loads into the pantry.  Hiccup followed a moment later, carrying a thirty-kilo bag of rice, his face red with effort. 

Snotlout sneered—and then his mouth clicked shut as she took the rice sack from Hiccup’s hands, dropped it to the floor, and pulled her boyfriend into a kiss.  And she made it a long one.

Snotlout stared, and then marched past them, muttering something about getting the last of the groceries from the car.

Once he was gone and she heard the front door close, she broke the kiss and whispered, “If it wouldn’t explode in our faces, I’d almost bend down and blow you in front of him.”

Hiccup coughed.  “Nice choice of words there.”

“Heh.  Yeah I suppose.  But I’m going to be all over you until he’s gone, okay?”

Hiccup nodded, grinning.  “No problems here.”

She kissed him again, wrapping her hands around the back of his neck, avoiding the wound on the back of his head, and closed her eyes so that she could focus on the moment.  He kissed back, nibbling on her lip, and she moaned, starting to feel a spark of arousal. 

She heard the door open again distantly, and pushed her tongue into Hiccup’s mouth, making him moan—and then Snotlout’s heavy footfalls sounded, paused, and there was a floor-shaking thud as he ungently deposited the sack of onions on the floor.  “Were you two really kissing the whole time?”

She broke the kiss and said with a smirk, “Pretty much.”

He huffed.  “I just… gah!”  He threw up his hands and then pointed at Hiccup accusingly.  “How!?”

Hiccup shrugged.  “Proper breathing technique; you use your nose instead of—”

“Not what I meant!”  He gesticulated wildly.  “How… how did _you_ get _her_ to be your girlfriend?”

She quirked an eyebrow.  “Do you really want to know?”

“Yes!  What has he got that I don’t?”

She snorted.  “Fine.  Back last winter break, after you asked me out every day for a month straight, Hiccup listened to me vent during our study sessions.  And he was so understanding and snarky about it, I kissed him.  And we started there.”  She smirked again, deeply and nastily.  “So it’s your fault.  If you hadn’t been such an utter jackass, you wouldn’t have given Hiccup a chance to demonstrate that he’s a good guy, and I wouldn’t have kissed him.”

Snotlout was staring at her, his jaw dangling open.  “But… but…”

She reached over and pushed his jaw up with a click.  “Piece of advice, Gary?  No means no.  Not ‘try again tomorrow.’”  She pulled back and pulled Hiccup into a hug.  “But, hey, without you…” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t have had a safe place to run when my father finally went off his nut.”

Snotlout swallowed and sighed. 

“What did happen?” he asked after several deep breaths, sounding reconciliatory—at least a bit. 

“He found that I was dating Hiccup without his permission, slapped me so hard it knocked me to the floor, called me a slut, dragged me by my hair into my room, and locked the door,” she said flatly. 

He pondered that, and then asked, sounding confused, “But if he knew that you were dating Hiccup, why’d he come by my place?”

“Because he found out that I was dating—just not who,” she said.  “And when he showed up yesterday, Hiccup took a beating from him rather than tell him where I was—which was why we were at the hospital.”

“Hiccup?  Took a beating?  I don’t beli—”

Hiccup sighed, lifted up his shirt, and turned around to display the multitude of bruises on his torso.

“—Whoa!”

“Yeah, he took a beating for me, Snot.  Would you?”

“I, I would,” he stammered. 

Ma Kosti stuck her head in at that moment.  “Ah, good.  I need twelve onions and six kilos of potatoes peeled and diced.  Start cracking.”

“Yes, Ma Kosti,” they said together, and set to work getting the vegetables together. 

Snotlout shook his head as he piled potatoes in his arms.  “I just… what, does he have a vibrator dick to go with that plastic leg?”

Astrid smirked as Hiccup blushed, but before she could deny the statement by personal witness, Hiccup said, “You’ve seen me in the showers at school, Gary.  Or were you more interested in my ass so that you could smack it with a wet towel?”

Snotlout scowled and muttered to himself as he tried to pack more potatoes into his armful, and dropping them as he did so.  In the kitchen a few minutes later, Snotlout was trying to peel potatoes with a showy flourish—that resulted in him peeling one potato for every three that Hiccup managed—while Astrid was copying Hiccup’s style. 

Snotlout was still asking questions, incredulous, but then Ma Kosti leaned in.  “Gary.  Stop.  You’re embarrassing yourself, really.”

“But—”

“Gary.  They’re in love.  You’re not going to change that.  You don’t have a chance there.  Accept that.”

He looked at Ma Kosti, and then actually seemed to think for a moment. 

And then, to Astrid’s shock, he nodded.

She was still giving him surprised looks a few minutes later as she took the potato peels over to the garbage pail—and when she stepped on the foot-pedal and the lid flipped open, the smell hit her.  Her stomach roiled and she gagged.  Dropping the bowl of peels on the floor with a bell-like clatter, she bolted for the bathroom, barely managing to get there in time before she vomited into the bowl of the toilet. 

“Astrid!?” Hiccup came up behind her and pulled her hair free.  “What was it?”

Snotlout’s voice came from behind him.  “Is she sick?  Did she get sick from your cooking?”

She heaved again.

“She’s not sick!”

“Then what’s wrong?  Was it something she ate?”

“No, it’s not that—”

“Then what is it?” Snotlout demanded.

She finished heaving, and, out of sheer frustration and anger, bellowed, “Snotlout, you _ass!_   I’m not sick, I’m pregnant!”

 

 


	14. Chapter 13: Are All Made Of Gold

**Chapter 13: Are All Made Of Gold**

There was a pause in the aftermath of Astrid’s shout, and, despite himself, Hiccup glanced at his cousin, who was gaping at them like a landed fish.

Then Astrid retched into the toilet bowl again as Hiccup kept her hair out of the way, and Hiccup could almost see Snotlout putting two and two together and getting four. 

“But… but… _who?_ ”

Okay, maybe getting three or five instead.

“ _Guess,_ Snot,” Astrid gasped out. 

“But…”  He turned and looked at Hiccup.  “ _You!?”_

Hiccup gave a sheepish shrug.  “Me.”

“You… you… you…”  He turned and bellowed, “Uncle Stoick!”

Hiccup sighed; he would have facepalmed if not for the fact that his hands were busy helping Astrid.  “He knows, Snot.”

“But… but…”

Astrid, seeming to having finished retching, started to haul herself to her feet, and Hiccup helped her.  “But _what,_ Snot?” she asked.  Ma Kosti came up and handed her a cup of water, which she used to rinse her mouth out.  “Yeah.  Hiccup and I have been together since last winter… and we’ve been _together_ for months.  I’m not going to deny it.”

He stared at both of them, and then Ma Kosti’s low chuckle made them all jump.  “Gary, I told you, didn’t I?”

“But… but…”

“But _what?”_ Astrid said cuttingly.  “But that Hiccup got me pregnant?  But that a girl like me shouldn’t be sleeping with a nerd like him?  But that I was supposed to save myself for you or some other jock?  But that I had sex without your permission?  But _what_ , Snotlout?  What’s the but?”

“I…”

Astrid huffed and pushed past him.  Hiccup watched with amusement as Snotlout, still stunned, just let her go past. 

But when he tried to follow her, Snotlout grabbed his arm.  “You!”

Hiccup sighed.  “Yes.  Me.  At least, last time I checked, I was me.  Maybe I’m somebody else now?”

“You, you… what… How!?”

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “Weren’t you paying attention in sex ed class?  Or to any of that porn you watch?  When a boy and a girl love each other very much—”

Ma Kosti snorted and Astrid laughed.  Snotlout, though, flushed.  “You… and her…!”

Astrid facepalmed.  “Oh, sweet Freyja!”  She stepped back, pulled Snotlout’s hand off of Hiccup’s arm, and pulled Hiccup forward, wrapping her arms around him.  “Yes, Snotlout!  Hiccup and I have been banging, bedding, humping, shagging, screwing, laying, dancing the horizontal tango, having a go at it, getting it on, getting it off, and just generally _fucking_ since last May!” 

Hiccup gave her a side glance as Snotlout gaped at them.  “Did you miss any?”

“‘Playing hide the sausage,’ ‘making the bed creak,’ and ‘having my way with’,” she admitted with a smirk, “but they would have slowed it down, or made it sound too one-sided.  Also ‘fornicate’, but I think that one has too many syllables for him.”

“Fair,” Hiccup said, grinning, even as he had a sense of growing impending doom. 

Ma Kosti, meanwhile, seemed to be amused.  As Snotlout continued to stand there, staring at the two of them, she eventually reached over and took him by the arm.  “Come, Gary, I think we need to have a talk.  Henry, Astrid, why don’t you go watch that movie that you mentioned before?”

She left, and Snotlout went with her without resistance.  Hiccup shared a glance with Astrid.  They both laughed. 

“Oh, for the love of Frigga…” Astrid said, covering her eyes with her hand and shaking her head.  “We’re screwed, aren’t we?”

“Well, that’s what got us here in the first place, isn’t it?” Hiccup deadpanned. 

“You know what I mean, smartass.  He’s not going to keep his mouth shut on gossip this juicy!”

He shrugged and pulled her tight.  “If he does, he does.  It was only a matter of time before that secret was out, milady,” he said, trying to keep his sense of pragmatism wrapped around him like a cloak, to protect him against his growing sense of panic.  “Worst case… is what?”

“We get thrown out of the school for violating the student guidelines,” she said.  “And the unis look at that and don’t offer us admittance.”

“Except that, if we blow away our Higher exams, they’ll almost certainly let us in.”  He squeezed his arm around her.  “I think that we can manage.”

“It would be hard doing it without the school, though,” she pointed out.  “We’ve only done a few of the NABs so far.”  The NABs, as the Unit Assessments were known, were required tests needed in order to pass the Higher courses—and they were nasty things. 

“True.  But that’s the worst case.  Absolute worst case.  And you know what?  I think that we can manage it.  Don’t you?” he asked.

She took a very deep breath, paused, and then nodded.  “Yeah.  I think we can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, and then Hiccup said quietly, “And you’re wrong about one thing.  That’s not our worst case.  That’s our academic worst case, and that’s one that we can live with.”  He turned and held her at arms’ length, hands on her shoulders.  “Our actual worst case is your dad managing to drag you back against your will.”

They hugged, and she rested her chin on his shoulder, and just stood there for a while. 

The doorbell rang, and they shared a look before heading to the front. 

Alvin was standing there on the front step.  “Hello, Henry.  Astrid.  May I come in?  I’m here to speak with Stoick on official business for this whole…” he gestured at Astrid, “matter.”

“If we say no, what happens?” she asked.

“Well, I probably go call the police and say that I have concerns about the health and safety of a young woman being kept away from communication with her family…” he said oily, with a bit of a leer to it.

She scowled at him.  “Fine.  Come in.”

“Ah ah.  You don’t live here.  Not officially. So, Henry, can I hear it from you, rather than the underaged girl you’ve got hiding out in here?”

Hiccup scowled at Alvin; the other lawyer and his dad had gone to law school together, and had been friends… and then Alvin had decided that living up to—or down to—the stereotypes of the lawyer had been just too lucrative.  He snorted.  “Come in.”

“Thank you,” Alvin said cheerfully, and stepped inside and took a deep sniff.  “Mmmh.  Do I get some of that famous Ma Kosti cooking?”

“Don’t push your luck,” Hiccup said flatly.  “Besides, you could do with a little less feeding, right?”

Alvin rolled his eyes.  “Juvenile cracks about my weight aside, Henry, question for you—”

“Nope!  You go talk to our lawyer,” Hiccup interrupted. 

“Ah, well, can’t blame me for trying,” Alvin said, still cheerfully, and went back to the office.

“I really don’t like him,” Astrid said quietly as they heard the door close. 

“Because he’s your dad’s lawyer, because of his charming personality, or because he’s got the ethics of a London landlord?”

“Can I go with option D, all of the above?”

He nodded.  “It’s the one that I went with.”

Astrid’s stomach growled, and she sighed.  “Food?”

“Something light, I think,” Hiccup said.  “You were just throwing up.”

“Yeah…” she sighed, her expression downcast. 

Hiccup poked his head into the kitchen, where Ma Kosti was talking to Snotlout, who was seated at the breakfast bar, a bowl of something set in front of him.  Classic Ma Kosti—feed ‘em and lecture ‘em.  It had worked wonders on Hiccup. 

Hiccup caught Ma Kosti’s attention, and said “I’m making something for Astrid to eat.”

“Good.  I’ll have Gary peel the onions for me.  Take care of the lass,” she said, and turned to the knife block.  She pulled out one of Hiccup’s razor-sharp santoku knives and a cutting board, and handed both to Snotlout.

Moving to the other side of the kitchen as Ma Kosti gave Snotlout the onions, Hiccup quickly grabbed a breakfast tray and tossed several pieces of bread into the toaster.  While they were toasting, he started water going for some tea, grabbed the butter and some spreads and jams and put them on the tray, plucked a couple of mugs and a teapot from the cabinet, and some fruit from the basket as the first slices of toast popped up.  They were put on a plate and four more slices of bread were tossed into the toaster.  The water quickly came to a boil in the electric kettle, and he poured the water into the tea pot and threw in the tea bags just as the second set of toast finished up.  Taking the laden tray, he found Astrid in the lounge, already browsing Netflix. 

“I’m so looking forward to this,” she said, grabbing a piece of toast and buttering it. 

“No sex on the couch when there’s people that might walk in on us in the house,” Hiccup said. 

“Screw the sex, I’m looking forward to cuddling and watching a movie with you.  Hel, I’m looking forward to binge-watching movies with you.  That sort of thing was never allowed when I was at my parents’ house,” she said enthusiastically. 

Hiccup didn’t know what to say to that, so he picked up a piece of toast and smeared it with raspberry preserves. 

Astrid poured the tea for both of them, added sugar and milk, and they settled back onto the couch as she assembled a playlist—or at least tried to. 

“Gah, there’s so many choices!  What to start with?” she whined.

Hiccup laughed.  “Okay, here.  Ever heard of Five-Three-Two?”

“The numbers?  Of course,” she deadpanned.

He snorted.  “The decision process.  Rather than trying to pick one thing out of a whole array, we pick five things to start with.  So I’ll start by picking five movies that I think you might find interesting,” he said.  “Then you pick three and discard two.  Then I pick two and discard one.  And then you make the final pick.”

“Hmm,” she said, tapping her chin and then nodding.  “Sounds workable.”

Hiccup grinned and quickly picked five movies that he thought she might like, and using the 5/3/2 method he’d picked up out of a novel once, they quickly narrowed it down to….

“Kung Fu Panda?”

“Adorable,” Hiccup said with a grin as she hovered the selector over the film.  “And if there’s any food in there that you like, I can try to make it.”

“Oooh.  Can’t turn that down,” she said with a matching grin.  “I like Chinese.”

They settled back to watch, and Astrid put her legs up onto Hiccup’s lap, the mug of tea in her right hand, eating a piece of toast with the other. 

They had just reached the scene with the choosing of the Dragon Warrior when Ma Kosti’s voice interrupted. 

“Henry, Astrid, I think that Gary has something to say to both of you.”

They looked up to see Ma Kosti and Snotlout, her hand on his shoulder, standing in the doorway, the curtain pushed to the side.  She nudged him forward and stepped back as Hiccup paused the movie. 

Snotlout looked down at the floor and said, “So… um… I’m sorry for how I behaved.  And… and I won’t tell anybody about…”  He trailed off, nodded towards them, and blushed. 

Hiccup felt his jaw drop open, and sharing a glance with Astrid showed that she was in a similar state of shock. 

“Who are you, and what have you done with Snotlout Jorgenson?” she demanded.

He looked sheepish.  “Um… Ma Kosti is very convincing?”

That was something that Hiccup could attest to, but this was a level of convincing that he had never been subjected to. 

“What did she _say_ to you?” Astrid demanded.

“That if he didn’t at least try to listen to me, he’d never have one of my cookies again,” Ma Kosti said with a smile.

Hiccup winced in sympathy.  “Harsh!”

“So, yeah… um… look,” Snotlout said.  “I still don’t like this… but…” he sighed and slumped, his hands in his pockets, “I should at least give you a chance… and if I tell everybody, then all I’ve done is show myself to be a douche.  And Uncle Stoick and Gobber would skin me alive if I got you two kicked out of school.”  He rolled his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug.  “And that would make you hate me.”

“I already hate you,” Astrid said sourly.  “You treat me like a possession, you try to control me, you ignore what I want… you act like my father!” 

Hiccup watched as that hit home and Snotlout winced. 

“Then… then can I have a second chance?”

Astrid curled up next to Hiccup.  “You want a second chance at being my friend?” Snotlout nodded.  “Then earn it.  Earn it by not being a douche.”

Hiccup caught Ma Kosti looking pleased from where she was standing behind Snotlout, and then she ducked away and returned to the kitchen. 

“Uh… how?”

“Try not being a douche,” Astrid said tartly.

“Uh…”

“And maybe you might end up becoming a friend.  But that’s maybe all you’ll ever be.  Friend.  I _have_ a boyfriend.”  She shifted in front of Hiccup possessively. 

“But…”  He slumped.  “Okay.  What… what do I do?”

“Maybe start by apologizing to your cousin for hitting him yesterday,” Astrid said.  “And apologize to me for refusing to believe me when I said that I was dating.”  She leaned forward and scowled.  “I mean, isn’t that how it _normally_ works?  Once a girl ‘belongs’ to a guy, it’s bad form to hit on her?”

Snotlout opened his mouth, and Hiccup could almost _see_ the _Abort!  Abort!_ signal from his brain to his mouth get sent before he said anything.  His jaw flapped for a moment, and then he said, “So, uh, Henry, I’m sorry I hit you… and Astrid, I’m sorry I hit on you.  And I’m gonna go help Ma Kosti with lunch now.  Enjoy the movie!”

Hiccup watched as he turned and fled.  He was still looking at the drawn curtains over the doorway when Astrid snuggled up to him again.  “If we do end up having this kid, I definitely want to hand them over to Ma Kosti for a bit of parenting.  Wow,” she said. 

“Snot’s not a complete idiot,” Hiccup said, and then smirked.  “There are parts missing.”

Astrid snorted.  “That’s for sure.  We’ll see how long this holds.  I bet by the weekend, he’s back to his normal self.”  She leaned forward and grabbed the remote.  “Now, about that Dragon Warrior business…”

She hit play, and they settled back to watch.

#

Astrid watched as the big fat panda entered the training room and the five warriors were demonstrating their skills.  She was deeply enjoying herself, Snotlout’s interruption aside.  It was her and her boyfriend, cuddling on the couch and watching a movie—a very entertaining…

She snatched the remote and rewound.  And watched, her eyes narrowed.

“Astrid?  What is it?”

She rewound one more time, and then once more, and then squealed in excitement.  “Awesome!”

“What?  What is it?”

“They’re all using the correct forms!” she informed him eagerly.  “Look!  Monkey is using Monkey-style Kung Fu—that’s how the flying kick _should_ look in Monkey-style—and Tigeress is using Tiger-style…”

Hiccup was staring at her, and he was obviously losing a fight against the smile growing on his face. 

“What?”

“ _Geek!”_ he said with relish. 

“What!?  No!”

“You just geeked out over the martial arts styles in Kung Fu Panda!” he said triumphantly.  “Geek!”

“I’m not!” she protested, poking him with her finger. 

“Astrid, you just paused and rewatched a scene three times just to catch a detail that ninety-nine out of a hundred people would never notice.”  He had given up fighting against the smile and was now engaged in a valiant rearguard fight against bursting out in laughter—not helped by her pokes to his stomach.  “You are now officially the Martial Arts Geek!”

“You’re so dead, Hiccup,” she threatened jokingly. 

“Worth it, to see you geeking out—”

She kissed him, and they both shut up for a minute.  As they kissed, Astrid realized one thing—he was pleased.  As much fun as he was having with calling her a geek, there was no malice in it.  Just joy at having found something she liked. 

She broke the kiss and said, “Okay, maybe I am a geek for martial arts.  But takes one to know one.”

“Oh, definitely,” Hiccup said, and reached up and stroked her cheek.  “And I’m so happy.  Especially since there are two sequels.”

She snorted and hit play.

As they watched, she pointed out the various details with glee, and Hiccup gave her looks filled with such adoration that she had to resist jumping him right then and there.  Po’s training made her stomach growl, watching the big lovable lump get teased with food by his pint-sized master and giggling through all of the mishaps. 

As her stomach growled again, Hiccup muttered to her, “You are free to eat.”

She poked him, enjoying the ridiculously over-the-top martial arts display over a dumpling. But she did reach out for another piece of bland toast that would settle her stomach—only to find that Hiccup had surreptitiously pushed the tray away with his foot. 

He got a poke to his belly for that, and at the end of the sequence, she whispered to Hiccup, “I want some of those dumplings.”

“Will I have to fight you for them?”

“Of course!”

“Sounds good to me.  How good are you with chopsticks?”

“Uh…”

Hiccup cackled.  “Excellent…”

“Oh?  And you’re an expert?”

“You’ll find out,” he said, grinning. 

She rolled her eyes.  “Po is using Bear-style, by the way.”

Hiccup laughed. 

She settled back in his lap to watch some more, and found herself cheering and laughing through all of the slapstick and drama.  She hadn’t even finished it yet, and it was becoming obvious to her that this was going to go down as one of her favorite movies of all time—not just for the sake of the movie, which she was coming to love on its own merits, but also for the memories made while watching it. 

She adored the combination of physical comedy and serious martial arts display during the final battle against the gray tiger, and noted that, of course, Po was using Dragon-style now, a fact that amused her greatly. 

As the movie wrapped up, and they were called to help finish preparing lunch by Ma Kosti, Hiccup leaned in.  “After lunch, want to watch the next two?”

“Gods, yes,” she said, grinning.

#

Hiccup, seated between Astrid and Snotlout to keep them from fighting, sat at the dining room table, across from Gobber.  Ma Kosti was seated across from Snotlout, while his dad was at the head of the table.  There wasn’t much conversation, just sounds of enjoyment as people ate their soups and rumbledethumps.

Then Snotlout opened his mouth for talking and not inhaling food.  “So… what happens now?”

“You eat, get on your bike, and go home, I hope,” Astrid said through a mouthful of rumbledethumps. 

“Not what I meant.  I mean… with you and your dad?  Where are you staying, how are you going to handle school…”  He shrugged awkwardly.  “That sort of stuff.”

“You’ll understand if I don’t think we should tell you, Gary,” Stoick said.  “That’s privileged… and you were sent here by Mister Hofferson.”

Snotlout blinked.  “Oh.  Um… okay.  Good point?” he said, and chuckled weakly. 

Hiccup sighed into his bowl of Cullen skink. 

Then Snotlout gingerly asked one more question.  “So… um… asking as family…  have you decided if you’re going to keep it?”

Astrid growled. 

“I just want to know if I’m going to be an uncle!” he said defensively.

Hiccup rolled his eyes.  “Technically, _if_ Astrid decides to have the baby, you’d be its second cousin once removed, not its uncle.”

Snotlout blinked at him.  “How… how did you just…”

“I looked it up, Snot,” Hiccup said.  “We’re second cousins; we have the same great-grandfather.  You count from the common ancestor for how many generations back—and if it’s not the same number, then you add in ‘removed’s to make up the difference.  So since we’re the same number of generations, we’re second cousins, and the baby would be one _removed_ from that.”

“Is _that_ how it works?” Snotlout asked, suddenly curious.  “And for all of these years, I thought that it was because you were the second cousin I was introduced to.”

Everyone around the table suddenly coughed, trying to restrain laughter. 

Ma Kosti broke first.  “No, that’s not how that works, Gary,” she said between barely muffled giggles. 

Hiccup laughed and explained how it worked, using their family tree as reference.  Snotlout was actually interested and listening, which felt unprecedented to Hiccup.  Ma Kosti had really done a number on him. 

Eventually, though, Snot took the hint to head on home, and left with a big sealed container of soup in his backpack. 

Once he left, Stoick looked over at Hiccup and Astrid.  “Alright.  We talked with Alvin, and well, it was about as productive as I could have hoped for.”

“Meaning ‘very’ or ‘not very’?” Hiccup asked.

“Little of both.  Nothing substantial, but I managed to press on the fact that Astrid here needs her clothes and other personal effects.  So I imagine that we’ll hear back from him tomorrow on that point.  In the meantime…”  He looked at the pair of them.  “You two focus on healing.  I’ve taken a few days of leave to deal with this, but I will have to head back out next week in order to deal with some scheduled court appearances, but I should _hopefully_ be back within a few days.”

“No wild parties while you’re away, got it,” Astrid said, smiling.

Stoick snorted.  “I trust both of you on that.  Besides,” he smirked, “such a party would not only open you both up to gossip that I know that you both don’t want to deal with, it would also dramatically cut into your time alone, wouldn’t it?”

Hiccup blinked and flushed, and Astrid snapped her fingers.  “Darn it, you’re right,” she said jokingly.  “It’ll be hard to have sex with Hiccup in every room in the house if there are people here.”

Hiccup was surprised that the tablecloth wasn’t bursting into flames from how flushed his cheeks were, while Gobber and Ma Kosti were bursting out laughing, and Stoick chortled. 

“Just stay out of the office, that’s all I ask,” Stoick said with a smirk. 

Hiccup hid his face in his hands. 

A strong set of fingers started to massage the back of his neck, and he slumped and sighed. 

“Feels good?” Astrid asked.

He nodded.

“In other news,” Stoick said, “I heard from the vet, and Toothless is fine; they kept him overnight for observation, and while he has some bruising, he’ll make a full recovery.  I was going to go get him after lunch.”

Hiccup grinned.  “And Astrid and I were going to finish binge-watching some movies.”

“Could I ask you to move upstairs?” Stoick asked.  “We were planning on watching some Continental Football this afternoon.”

Hiccup shared a look with Astrid.  She nodded, and Hiccup shrugged.  “That’s fair.  Sure, we’ll watch on my computer.”

“Ah, Stoick just wants to be sure that he can sit on the couch safely,” Gobber joked. 

Astrid smirked.  “He can… for now.”  They all laughed.  Then she asked, “I’ve been meaning to ask, actually…”

“Yes, lass?”

“Why does the living room feel like it was ordered out of a catalog, but the upstairs bathroom and the lounge are so nicely decorated?”

The levity died, with the smiles on the adults faces vanishing in an instant, and Hiccup grimaced.

“What?  What’s wrong?” Astrid looked around the table.  “What did I say?”

Stoick sighed.  “My wife and I decorated most of the house’s rooms before… before she passed.  We were planning on doing the living room together next.”

“Oh,” Astrid said faintly. 

Hiccup reached over to her and took her hand in his.  She squeezed his fingers. 

Stoick looked at her and said, “But you are right.  The living room is… not really living.  Perhaps… perhaps if and when you… you join this family… you and Henry might take it upon yourselves to complete it?”

Hiccup couldn’t help himself—he gasped.  His mother had been dead for over ten years… and his dad had kept the house nearly exactly as she had left it, with the exception of the kitchen and pantry.  He still did some of the stone- and wood-carving that Astrid had admired, but only occasionally.  And now he’d known Astrid for barely more than a day, and he was making that kind of suggestion?

She really _had_ impressed him. 

_Good._

Astrid didn’t quite seem to realize the depth of the compliment Stoick had just paid to her, but she understood at least on some level, as she blushed and said, “Maybe.  That’s still in the future, though.  But… but I appreciate it.”

 


	15. Chapter 14: I Wanna Hide The Truth

**Chapter 14: I Wanna Hide The Truth**

As the movie finished, Astrid rubbed herself up against Hiccup like a cat.  If she could have, she would have purred.  They were sitting on his bed, limbs tangled, having just finished the second Kung Fu Panda movie… after an interruption. 

She poked him in the ribs.  “Do I smell sequel?”

He laughed and nodded.  “And it’s just as awesome.”

“I love it,” she said, grinning, and bent in to kiss him.  “Almost as much as I love you.”

“Mmmh, you don’t say…” he said, smirking, and she pushed forward to start the kiss.  As she nibbled on his lip, she reached down to start stroking him through the sweatpants he was now wearing; they’d had to pause the movie about two-thirds of the way through because she’d needed to use the bathroom, and she’d come back to basically tackle him.  They’d made love basically fully dressed on the bed, her riding him slowly and sensually to keep her neck from hurting; it still felt like his moan was echoing in her ears as he’d come inside her, but not before his gentle stroking under her clothes had brought her to climax twice.  And that was something she considered unfair, given how she’d started it specifically because he’d fingered her to a quick orgasm earlier while his computer had been booting up and they’d been kissing. 

But now, as his tongue ran across hers, she shivered with arousal.  She broke the kiss and whispered, “I want you.”

“Again?”

She nodded and kissed him again.  Clothing was shucked with frantic speed, and they writhed together on the bed, skin against skin, hands groping and lips mashing together almost frantically. 

“How… do… you… want… me…?” he asked in quick gasps between frantic kisses. 

She grinned, and rolled off of him as best she could given the narrowness of the bed.  As he whimpered slightly at her moving away, she got on all fours and bounced slightly.  “We haven’t done this here yet.” 

He looked her over with wide, lust-filled eyes.  “It won’t hurt your neck?”

She started to shake her head, and the brace prevented her from doing so.  Rolling her eyes, she said, “No.  Now fuck me!”

“So aggressive,” he chuckled, and shifted to behind her.  “You really like this position, don’t you?” he asked as he filled her, and she moaned with lust.  He always felt bigger from this angle—and he was already perfectly sized to fill her all the way through without hurting her. 

“Yes…” she breathed, and he started to rock in and out of her.  “It’s my favorite… after riding you…” she said softly.  “You setting the pace…”

“Mmmmh… yes…” he said.  “Well… we’ll go slow for the moment, okay?”

“‘Kay…” she said quietly as he laid down across her back gently, and kissed along the bones of her spine as he languidly fucked her.  She supposed that the ibuprofen he’d taken had kicked in, because the bruises on his back and gut weren’t keeping him from thrusting like they had last night… for which she was profoundly grateful. 

Putting his right hand on the bed, he braced himself, and she sighed in quivering anticipation, knowing what was coming next.

His left started to dance across her chest and stomach, stroking her with featherlight touches and heavier pinches.  Each one seemed calculated to bring her to new heights of arousal, and she moaned in arousal as he played her like a fine instrument.  His chest across her back was the bow to the strings, his fingers on her front was the keyboard, and his cock in her groin was the entire brass section.

His hand reached her clit and drummed on it, each finger gently striking it in sequence in time with his cock hitting that wonderful spot inside her, and she shuddered in unison, her breath coming in pants.  But rather than linger, the virtuoso danced away, his fingertips leaving trails of coolness behind—her own juices, painting as lines across her skin.  She shuddered again as he traced out the lines of her ribs, the touch and the chill following them seeming to raise matching heat under her skin. 

He pulled back, his chest seeming to peel itself free from her spine, and she mourned its loss, even as, no longer needed for bracing his weight, his right hand came into play.  His thrusting built up speed as he gripped her more tightly for leverage, even as he continued to stroke her to the point of madness, the conductor raising the symphony to a crescendo…

His genius fingertips fondled her breasts and flicked across her nipples in time with his rolling thrusts as he twisted his hips.  She gasped as bolts of heat and electricity seemed to transmit directly across her chest and down to her groin.  But before she could come, he pushed her down gently, her head touching the pillow, her weight on her elbows.

“You close?”

She moaned in the affirmative.  “Don’t… stop…” she managed to get out.

“I’m not.”  He leaned forward again, laying across her, and put _his_ weight on his elbows…

And his hands, freed from having to support him, went back to playing her.

They danced across the ivory keys of her ribs and drummed on the cymbals of her breasts…

How long he kept her there at the edge, she didn’t know, but it was dozens of thrusts, his earlier orgasms clearly giving him additional stamina with which to fuck her silly.  

She came with her back arched against him, muffling his moaned name into the pillow out of long habit… but the conductor of her exquisite torment wasn’t done with her yet.  She had barely come down from that one before he put both hands on her hips and pulled her back to the edge of the bed.  Their feet on the floor, her chest flat on the bed, each thrust rubbed her clit against the edge of the bed as his hands stroked her back and the sides of her breasts, sending shocks of lightning to her groin to compete with his cock rubbing against that sensitive spot inside her. 

“You’re… so… evil…” she gasped out between his languid thrusts, the slap of skin on skin sounding like a drumbeat.

“Compliment… accepted,” he replied in the same manner.  “I’m… so… close…”

“Then come…” she said lustily.  “I… ooooh!… I want to feel you…” 

He licked the sweat from her spine, and the feeling of his tongue moving down her skin, in combination with the edge of the bed on her clit, was enough to push her _over_ that edge again.  Her body spasmed against his, and she gasped out his name like the crescendo. 

He moaned her name, and followed her.  She felt him spilling into her _again,_ and she loved it, that feeling of intimacy.  There were no barriers—latex, emotional, or otherwise—between them any longer.

A short while later, they laid cuddling under the blankets again, enjoying the afterglow.  He was nuzzling at the back of her neck, her brace off for the moment, and she giggled.  “Wow…”

“What?”

“I never dared dream of this.  The two of us.  Not having to hide, being together…”  She twisted carefully in his arms, her neck protesting somewhat.  “Could you imagine us having this much privacy in my parents’ house?”

He shook his head. 

“And now we have it.  And I have you,” she said, reaching up and caressing his cheek.  Then she smirked and reached down.  “And I think that it’s your turn…”

#

Trying to be quiet, Hiccup and Astrid stole down the stairs on bare feet.  Of course, stealth wasn’t as useful when there were people in their destination. 

Ma Kosti looked up from where she was reading at the breakfast bar at the two of them as they entered into the kitchen.  “I was wondering when you two would show up for dinner.”  The kitchen smelled heavenly, and of ginger nut cookies—if there was a difference.  There were cooling racks on the countertops filled with them already, the wire mesh stands stacked three and four units high; made with fresh ginger, they had been what the restaurant-flat of ginger root had originally been earmarked for, before Hiccup had raided it for Astrid’s stomach. 

Hiccup gave her a small weak smile, wondering how much teasing they were about to endure.  “So…”

She smirked as Astrid eyed the racks of cookies.  “So?  There’s still Scotch broth and Cullen skink left, plus I made a pot of vegetable soup for Astrid.”  She looked at Astrid fondly and motioned to a pot simmering on the stovetop.  “I remember my own morning sickness, and I got out the recipe.”

Astrid blinked.  “For… for me?”

Ma Kosti smiled and nodded.  “And there’s some fresh bread rolls to go with it.”  She motioned to a small covered basket.

“I… I… _thank you,_ ” Astrid said, sounding deeply touched.

Ma Kosti grinned.  “Not a problem.  I’m just glad to see both of you happy.”  She smirked.  “And _hearing_ you happy as well.”

Hiccup flushed and Astrid cackled. 

“Ah, don’t you mind me, Henry,” Ma Kosti said, waggling her eyebrows.  “I remember being young and in love.”  She hoisted her mug of tea at them in a humorous salute, and she looked to Astrid.  “So, young Astrid, would you like to eat down here, and I can regale you with Hiccup stories, or are the two of you going to abscond with as much food as you can carry upstairs to eat there and do…” she made an aimless wave, “whatever it is that you plan on doing?”

Hiccup looked at Astrid worriedly.  He knew _exactly_ which stories Ma Kosti was anticipating sharing.

She looked at him and gave him a questioning smile with a shrug of her shoulders.

Hiccup sighed.  If he chickened out, he wasn’t going to live it down.  “We’ll stay and eat,” he said, and Ma Kosti cackled. 

“Excellent.”

A minute or so later, they were seated at the breakfast bar, bowls of vegetable soup or Cullen skink in front of them, the basket of fresh bread rolls in easy reach of both of them, and Ma Kosti was preparing the baking stones for the next batch of ginger cookies. 

Twenty minutes after that, Astrid had inhaled three bowls of soup and four bread rolls, even with needing to pause from laughing at Ma Kosti’s stories.

“…so I come in here, and Hiccup is leaning with his full body weight on top of the lid of that pot—” she pointed to a 40 liter stock pot sitting on top of one of the cabinets— “for dear life.  It had risen at least ten, probably nearly twenty centimeters above the rim of the pot, a solid pillar of white holding it up, with half-cooked rice flaking off of the sides and onto the counters and floor…”

Astrid was barely holding onto her seat, her face red with laughter, as Hiccup pointed his spoon at his mentor in an accusatory fashion.  “You told me that we needed rice for the banquet and to make a pot of it!”

“Aye, and we had enough for that banquet and the next six after that!” Ma Kosti replied with a smirk. 

“I didn’t know that rice expanded that much when you cooked it!” Hiccup protested.

“Well, you learned that, alright!” Ma Kosti said, her eyes twinkling with humor. 

Astrid was sucking down air, desperately trying to breathe in between her laughter. 

Hiccup crossed his arms and pouted.  “It’s been five years and you still haven’t let me forget that one!”

“Henry, honey, you’ll be in your thirties and I’ll still be telling that story,” Ma Kosti said fondly.  “You had this look that I’ve only ever seen before on my cats.  _I have made a Mistake and I can’t get down!_ ”

Astrid howled with laughter. 

Hiccup grumped dramatically, even as he was amused.  It _was_ honestly funny, looking back on it, even if it hadn’t been at the time.  Ma Kosti bustled and got the next batch of cookies out of the oven as Astrid gasped for breath and calmed down for the next round of stories. 

As the next batch went in and the freshly baked cookies were transferred to the cooling racks, she was still breaking out in random giggles as she used a chuck of bread roll to mop up the rest of the thick vegetable broth. 

“So what other Hiccup Stories are there?” his lover inquired of his mentor.

“Oh, lots.  The Whipped Eggs Incident; The Case of the Missing Treacle; the recurring classic of Toothless Is To Blame; No Ma Kosti, I Have No Idea What Happened To The Chocolate, Honest; The Pasta Sauce Of Misunderstanding…”

Hiccup groaned and ducked his head.

“Oooh.  That one sounds like a good one!” Astrid said cheerfully.

Hiccup groaned again and gently pounded his forehead against the counter.  Picking his head up, he turned to Astrid.  “So…”

“So?”

“So… I’m thirteen.”

“Twelve!” Ma Kosti corrected cheerfully.

“Twelve.  And I want to make spaghetti and sauce for dinner for everybody.”

Astrid nodded to show that she followed. 

“So the recipe calls for ten cloves of garlic,” he said. 

“Uh huh…”

“So I go to the store and get everything I need.  And since I like garlic, I get a little bit extra.”

Ma Kosti snorted and ducked into the storage room and came out a moment later, holding something in her hands.  “So I come in, and well… there were no vampires anywhere around here, that’s for sure!”

Astrid cocked her head.  “Why…?  I mean, ten cloves, that’s a lot, but…”

Ma Kosti put down a full head of garlic on the counter.  “Because Henry thought that this was a ‘clove’ of garlic.”

Astrid’s jaw dropped open.

Hiccup started to laugh helplessly.  “Yeah.  I put a dozen _bulbs_ of garlic into the sauce.”  He slumped his shoulders.  “By volume, I think that it was about three quarters garlic.”  He paused in consideration.  “Maybe more.”

Ma Kosti chortled.  “It practically qualified as a chemical weapon.”  She picked up the garlic bulb again as Astrid looked appalled.  “Stoick was making comments about calling in the disposal unit from the army and paying them in cookies.”

Astrid was giggling incredulously, and leaning on Hiccup for support as she laughed and laughed. 

“It was inedible,” Hiccup groused.  “We had to dump in so much extra tomato sauce to cut it, and even then, Gobber teased me for weeks by faking an Italian accent.”

Astrid was turning red again, barely able to suck in breaths at random in order to keep laughing.  “You… you…”

Hiccup nodded.  “Yeah.  Most kids learning to cook think that ‘egg whites’ means the shell.  Not me.  No, my mixups are so much better!”

Astrid buried her face in his shoulder and gave little meeping whimpers of laughter. 

As Astrid fought for composure, tears of laughter leaking from her eyes and soaking Hiccup’s sleeve, Ma Kosti cheerfully walked over to one of the cookie racks, and assembled a stack of cooled ginger nuts.  Wrapping them in a paper towel, she sauntered back over to the breakfast bar and said, “Here you go.  Why don’t you head back upstairs, watch your films, and enjoy these?”

Hiccup grinned and accepted the cookies.  “Thanks!”

Astrid nodded in agreement, even though she was still laughing too hard to say anything coherent. 

“And, Henry, this weekend, can I count on you for help with the chocolate chip?”

Hiccup nodded enthusiastically. 

“And you, Astrid?”

Astrid grinned and bobbed her head in affirmation, before staggering weakly to her feet, and unsteadily pulled Hiccup towards the stairs. 

“See you later, Ma Kosti!” Hiccup called as he was pulled out of the kitchen.

“Good night, Henry,” she called cheerfully to him.  “Enjoy the cookies.”  She quirked an eyebrow right before he was pulled out of the kitchen.  “And each other!”

Astrid burst out into a fresh round of giggles and her tugging on Hiccup’s arm took on new urgency. 

When they got up to their room, he barely had a chance to put the cookies down on the desk before Astrid had backed him up against the wall, kissing him.

#

As they prepared for bed that night, Astrid couldn’t keep the stupid smile off of her face.  The afternoon had been glorious.  After lunch, she and Hiccup had retired to his… to _their_ room in order to watch more movies.  And they’d spent half of the afternoon doing that… and the other half either making love or basking in the afterglow.

She would have said that she’d lost count of the number of times they’d made love today, but that would be a lie. 

Once in the shower this morning with her hand, if that counted.  That second time after lunch, with the quick bout where he’d fingered her to orgasm, kissing her the whole while.  A third time when they’d paused the movie and she’d come back from the bathroom to ride him.  A fourth when the movie had finished, and he’d taken her from behind, in her second-favorite position.  A fifth when she’d turned the tables when he’d recovered after the fourth, and managed to string him out on the edge for probably ten or twenty minutes with her hands and mouth before mounting him and letting him come in her.  A sixth after that hilarious dinner with Ma Kosti, where they’d shifted from kissing to lovemaking somewhere in the span of an hour, and it had been as slow and languid as the fourth had been intense and fast, and yet not one bit less loving or passionate.  A seventh after they’d finished the third movie, where they’d challenged each other to see who could bring the other to climax first with their mouths, and they’d sixty-nined on the bed.  He’d won that one, but he’d been a little wild-eyed at the end of it, and they had agreed that if he hadn’t already been running on empty, she would have won. 

And now they were getting ready for bed.  Together.  Gods.

She snuggled into his arms, and they spooned together. 

“Hiccup?” she asked quietly.

“Yeah, Astrid?”

“I love you,” she said, twisting slightly to make herself more comfortable in his arms.

“Love you too.  I can’t believe how lucky I am.”

She rolled her eyes at that.  No, she was the lucky one here.  He’d mistaken her forced aloofness for a lack of interest—completely misinterpreting the fact that she’d started things to begin with—while she had nearly driven him off with the way that she’d acted.  Even if she’d been effectively forced to do so by her bastard of a father. 

So, yes, she was the lucky one here.

She reached out, flicked off the light, and went to sleep.

She dreamed.

#

Hiccup grunted as Astrid kicked the pillow he was holding.  And then grunted again as she punched it, almost screaming at it. 

“Feeling better?” he asked as she stepped back and continued with her martial arts forms. 

She nodded as she continued, and Hiccup took a moment to appreciate her grace and form.  Standing still, she was beautiful.  But in motion… she was breathtaking. 

He’d volunteered to hold the pillow for her to abuse after she’d woken up from a bad dream earlier in a foul mood.  And even if his hands were feeling a little battered, as the pillow wasn’t as good as an actual punching bag for absorbing blows, he didn’t regret making the offer to hold it in the slightest. 

Although he did plan on heading to a sporting goods store at some point and buying some proper punching pads.  Maybe one of those full padded suits, eventually. 

“Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head as she flowed through one of the forms, deceptively graceful.  “It… it was a bad dream, that’s all.”

“About…?”

“Guess,” she said tartly, throwing a snap-kick.

“In order, your dad, school, and the baby,” Hiccup said.

“You forgot ‘boyfriend’ and ‘all of the above,’” she said, throwing a punch at the air.

Hiccup grimaced, and reached out to hug her, but she shrugged him off and continued with the form.  “I, I don’t know what it was that I did in the dream, but—”

“Hiccup.  Drop it.  It was a bad, ugh, _dream!_ ” she said, grunting as she made another kick.

He stepped back and nodded.  “Okay.  But if it keeps bothering you, promise that you’ll talk to me?”

She paused for a moment and nodded.  “Okay.”

Hiccup’s phone buzzed at that moment, and they both looked at it.  Because of the whole social media frenzy, Hiccup had taken a little while during the first day to selectively mute his phone’s notifications. 

A bit hesitantly, Hiccup went over and picked it up.  And then a cautious smile grew on his face.  “It’s Heather.”  He answered it after Astrid gave him a questioning look and a nod.  “Hey, Heather, what’s up?”

“Tell your girlfriend to answer her phone once in a while,” Heather’s sarcastic voice came in his ear.  “But I’m also calling for you.  I know that Astrid told you that you’re not the only one with a secret relationship.  So how much do you want me to tell Justin?”

Hiccup paused.  Justin ‘Fishlegs’ Ingerman was one of his best friends—really, one of his only friends, instead of ‘someone friendly with’—as well as being a fellow geek, and all-around good guy. 

And Hiccup hadn’t told him anything.

He slumped and looked at Astrid.  “One sec,” he said to Heather, and lowered the phone.  “She wants to know what she should tell Justin.”

Astrid sighed.  “Do you trust him?”

Hiccup nodded.  “I do.”

“Then… tell him yourself?”

Hiccup took a deep breath, thought it over, and sighed.  “Okay.”  He held the phone back up to his ear.  “Come by for lunch with him?  He’s my friend—I can at least tell him myself.”

“Okay.  See you in a few hours,” she said, and hung up.

Hiccup sighed and put the phone back down.  “Apparently you need to answer your phone once in a while.”

Astrid immediately picked hers up, turned it on, and winced at the notifications.  “Oops.”

“How bad?”

“Hundred-plus.  Wonder if Snotlout blabbed?”  She keyed in her auth code and started to peruse.  “I’m gonna check.  If he did, it’ll be pretty obvious.”

“That it will.  I’m gonna get started on breakfast.  More oatmeal?”

“Yes, please,” she said gratefully.  She’d already thrown up once this morning after they’d woken.  “Heavy on the ginger, light on everything else.”

“As milady wishes,” he said in the most obsequious voice he could manage, trying to channel Jeeves to Wooster. 

She threw the pillow at him, chuckling, as he left the room.  He headed downstairs, and found his dad sitting at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, his tablet in one hand and his coffee mug in the other. 

“Hey Dad,” Hiccup said softly, and then he started to gather what he needed for breakfast.

“Morning, Henry,” Stoick said, putting the tablet down and flicking it off.  “Did you have a good time last night?” he asked with a smirk.

Hiccup flushed as he snagged the apples from the fruit basket.  “Yes, I did.  No, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Stoick snorted, amused.  “Oh, please.  It can’t _possibly_ be any more awkward than the conversation I had with her yesterday morning… with her dressed only in your shirt and me accidentally giving her a panic attack because I scowled at her.”  He grimaced.  “I plan on beating Cameron Hofferson like a dusty carpet—literally, if he lays another finger on either of you, but I’ll settle for doing it in court.”

Hiccup paused as he was reaching down to get a pan out of the cabinet.  “Really?”

“Aye.  Aside from the fact he hurt _you…_ Hiccup, I glared at her for a moment and that was enough for her to leap off this chair and almost bolt for it.”

Hiccup winced as he got down the oatmeal from the cabinet.  “Yeah… her dad is a piece of work.”

“I’ve gotten that impression.  Yet, she came to your rescue against him.”  Stoick raised his eyebrows meaningfully and took a drink from his coffee mug as Hiccup opened the refrigerator and got out what he needed.  “And she’s intelligent, insightful, and makes you smile.  So, yes, in case you’re wondering, I’ve quickly moved past shock at, oh, _you not telling me that you had a girlfriend,_ ” he said pointedly, “and have now moved on to acceptance and, as Gobber put it, a smug sense of satisfaction.”

Hiccup snorted and started to measure out the milk he needed for the oatmeal.  

“Really… son.  I know that you’re young.  And I think that, yes, you’re doing the right thing by actually courting the lass instead of leaping into a marriage of convenience.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Hiccup said dryly, putting the milk down.

“But, that all being said,” Stoick commented, “Having seen the two of you together… aye.  Not now… maybe not for a while… but I’m sure that I just met my future daughter-in-law.” 

Hiccup flushed as he tossed the butter into the frying pan to start melting, and turned to the cutting board.  As he began to chop the apples, he said, “Really?  You just met her.”

“Aye, I recognize that.  But she made quite the impression,” Stoick said, amused.  “But, Henry… you’re missing my point.”  He put the coffee mug down and looked at Hiccup.  “I support this.  I think that you are both good for each other.  And I’m proud of you.”

Hiccup paused in his chopping.  “You’re proud of me for getting her _pregnant?!”_

“Well, not precisely—”

“Dad, do you know what people are _saying_ about her just for daring to _date_ me!?”  He waved his arms about.  “They’re saying that she lost a bet, or—”

“Henry!  I don’t care what your classmates are saying,” Stoick said sharply.  “And regarding the pregnancy, I’m of two minds, for obvious reasons.  But I _am_ proud of you.  For standing up for her.  For supporting her.  And for being a good man.”  He leaned forward as Hiccup scowled and continued his chopping of the apples.  “As for your classmates… what are you going to do about them?”

“Dunno,” Hiccup said sourly, still looking down, and chopping an apple with… perhaps more force and enthusiasm than needed.  “But there are some people that just lost a bunch of my respect.  Like the guy who congratulated me for ‘taming the wild beast’.”  The piece of apple he was chopping went flying off the cutting board. 

Stoick sighed.  “Aye, I know the type.  Ignore them is my advice.”

“Doing my best, but they’re flooding my phone with messages,” Hiccup said, dumping the first chopped apple into the frying pan.  It hissed, and he gave the little bits of apple a stir. 

“Well, there is that,” Stoick said, and got to his feet as Toothless appeared and proceeded to give the frying pan a hopeful look.  “I’m expecting Alvin again later today with the next round of negotiations.”  He chuckled.  “I have to say, this whole situation has been satisfying there.”

“Oh?” Hiccup asked, his tongue stuck out between his teeth as he chopped the next apple. 

“Aye.  Hofferson isn’t giving him much room to breathe… and I’m refusing to budge.”  Stoick motioned with his hands.  “Rock.  Hard place.  Alvin.”  He clapped his hands together as if squeezing something between them.

Hiccup snorted and dropped the second apple into the frying pan, and added the sugar.  “Sounds like you’re having fun.”

“Yes and no.  I’m doing my background reading on family law,” Stoick hefted his tablet, “and, well… so far, it is still looking like the best possible option to keep her safe is to marry her.”  He scowled.  “And there are some judges out there that have lost a great deal of my respect.”

“How so?” Hiccup asked, adding in a frozen cube of minced ginger to the frying pan; he’d taken the remains of the roots that they hadn’t made into syrup or candy, ground them up in the food processor, and frozen them in an ice cube tray for easy use. 

Stoick growled.  “Ordering abused children back into the homes of their abusers, for one,” he said.  Hiccup turned and looked in shock at his father, who nodded.  “Aye.  They ruled that the parent has a right to control their child’s life.”  He sighed.  “Suffice it to say, if and when this does end up going to court, I’m going to do my best to make sure we don’t end up in one of _their_ courtrooms.”

Hiccup nodded a bit faintly.  “Okay,” he said softly.  Toothless rubbed his head up against his leg, and Hiccup crouched slightly to pet his dog. 

Stoick reached over.  “Ah, chin up,” he said, raising Hiccup’s chin with his finger.  “I’ll keep Astrid safe, and you keep her happy.  Deal?”

Hiccup nodded again, and gave the apples a stir. 

Stoick smiled, and leaned in before taking a deep sniff.  “That smells delicious.  Make enough for three, would you?”

Hiccup grinned and nodded.  “Alright, I’ll do that.”

Footsteps on the stairs at that moment heralded Astrid’s arrival, and she came into the kitchen a few moments later.  “Hey.  So… get this.  Gary kept his mouth shut.”

“ _Really?_ ” Hiccup asked, surprised. 

“Yeah, that was my thought too!  But nothing.  It’s mostly the same stuff, plus some people who were out on vacation catching up on the news and messaging me.”

Stoick snorted, and said, “Gary Jorgenson is many things, but he does have a heart.”

“Which Ma Kosti reached through his stomach,” Hiccup observed.  “Astrid hasn’t had any luck by getting through to it any other way.”

“Including through his face with my fist,” Astrid said.

Stoick chuckled.  “Don’t punch people in the face, Astrid.”  She gave him a look, and then Stoick smirked and continued, “You’re likely to break your fingers on their skulls.  Aim for the gut instead.”

“Oh, I know.  But it’s just so _satisfying_ to shut him up that way!” she said cheerfully, leaning over and taking a hearty sniff of the apples and ginger.

“Ha!” Stoick barked.  “So, I’m going to get some paperwork out of the way.  Let me know when the food is ready, Henry.”

“Will do, dad,” Hiccup said, tossing in some raisins into the frying pan. 

#

Astrid groaned slightly as she and Hiccup showered after breakfast.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“I’m sore,” she said, deliberately not elaborating. 

“Well, we were in a fight just two days ago,” he said.  “I’m still sore too.”  He reached out.  “Want a massage?”

She groaned.  “Not _that_ kind of sore, Hiccup.  Although, yes, I’ll take you up on that.”

“Then what?  The exercise this morning?”

She caught his eyes and flicked her gaze pointedly downwards.

He was confused for a moment, and then the light dawned.  “Ooohhh.”  He shrugged.  “Well, that makes sense.”  A wry grin crossed his face.  “And I can sympathize.  My prostate still aches, although not as bad as last night.”

She blinked.  That wasn’t the reaction she had been expecting.  She’d been expecting an outpouring of apologies for having hurt her.  “Wait, your…”

“My prostate.  Happens when you wank off too much too.”  He quirked an eyebrow.  “You literally drained me dry last night, Ast.  And wow, did it hurt.”  He shrugged and flicked some shampoo at her, making her laugh.  “So, let’s see… I came, what, seven, eight times yesterday?  And you came just as much.  Is it really a surprise that we’re both sore?”

She rolled her eyes and chuckled.  “I guess not.  But I feel like I sandpapered my inner walls.”

Hiccup grimaced and then put on a pained smile.  “Well, it’s not that surprising for either of us, is it?”  He shrugged expressively.  “I mean, what, we had more sex yesterday than we did since the start of the school year,” he continued, amusement in his voice and body language.  “Gee, I wonder why—” She grabbed the showerhead and pointed it at his face, “—Hey!”

“Wiseass,” she said fondly, pointing the showerhead back down. 

“And you love it,” he said cheekily. 

“I do,” she replied, and pulled him into a hug. 

He rubbed her back, his thumbs running over the bones of her spine, and she sighed into his shoulder.  “So… no sex today?” she asked.  Because, yes, she ached, but… well…

_Stupid hormones!_

“Let’s see how we feel,” he said, and she could tell that he was grinning.  “First, though, lunch.  Suggestions?”

“Well, has Fishlegs ever had your cooking before?”

Hiccup chuckled.  “Yep.  But not fresh.  Usually I bring it to his place when we’re studying there.”

She waggled her eyebrows.  “Well, something that’s good fresh out of the kitchen is the best option then, right?”

“Sounds good to me,” he said. 

They bounced ideas off of each other as they finished up in the shower.  Astrid found herself reveling in the sheer intimacy of showering with him.  They hadn’t had sex in here yet—well, not penetrative sex, at least—but the feel of bathing with him was just so… well, _intimate._   Not just physically, but emotionally.

And they hadn’t even used it as a bathtub yet.  She was so very much looking forward to that. 

They dressed and came downstairs.  Stoick and Gobber were audible in the office, Gobber discussing something in an incredulous tone of voice that made her heart sink. 

But she clenched her hands and followed Hiccup to the kitchen.  As he checked their supplies, she took some deep breaths.  She had Stoick and Gobber fighting for her, free of charge.  Here, she was safe. 

But she felt so… helpless. 

“Astrid?” Hiccup called her, and she turned and helped him hash out the grocery list, grateful for something that she could handle.  Lunch.  Lunch was simple.  Talk with Heather, talk with Justin.  One step at a time. 

A quick trip to the local market on Hiccup’s moped got them the ingredients they needed for lunch—and a bottle of prenatal vitamins that Hiccup tossed into the basket, which made her stomach do flip-flops as her eyes kept darting towards it. 

She reveled in sitting behind him on the moped, her arms around his waist and her head on his shoulder, as Toothless ran alongside them.  As they got back, she fished into the bag and grabbed the box of doggie treats that Hiccup had bought. 

Toothless immediately came to attention, his eyes on the prize.  As Hiccup unpacked the groceries, she amused herself by tossing Toothless treats, and watching the little bacon- and beef-flavored chews get caught in midair and scarfed down. 

“Don’t give him too many,” Hiccup said, grinning as he spread the food out on the countertops.  “It’ll spoil his appetite.”

She grinned.  “Aw, but he’s such a good boy.  Aren’t you, Toothless?”

Toothless immediately nodded his head and gave her his best puppy-dog eyes.  Yes, he was a good boy.  Such a good boy.  Didn’t she see that she should just give him the whole bag of treats?

She laughed and tossed him another treat, which vanished before it hit the floor.  After she finished playing with Toothless, she helped Hiccup in the kitchen, practicing her new chopping skills, and stealing frequent kisses as they worked. 

“Hey, Hiccup?” she said as she worked on making matchsticks out of the carrots, “can you show me how you did those nice even cuts?  I’m mucking this up.”

“Sure,” he said, and came up behind her.  Putting his arms around her, he wrapped his hands around hers and started to run her through the technique.  First cut the carrot into pieces of the same length… then cut it down the middle of the long axis… and then make long slices, followed by stacking the slices and cutting the matchsticks from them.  The knife cut through the dense root with minimal resistance, and the nice and regular carrot sticks fell from the blade with ease. 

“If I wanted to make thicker sticks, I’d break out the french fry cutter,” he mused, “and just ram them through the finest cutting mesh I have.  But this still works.”  He let go of her hand.  “You try.”

“In a moment,” she said, and turned around in his arms.  She pulled him into a kiss, and wrapped her arms around him.  He gave a muffled groan as she nibbled on his lip, and his arms wrapped around her.  She slid her tongue into his mouth for a brief moment, and was rewarded with a moan that sent a bolt of pure arousal to her achy core. 

He moved towards her more aggressively, backing her rear up against the countertop.  Not to be outdone, she twisted a bit, turning the two of them to a more unoccupied countertop, and, not breaking the kiss, she hopped up onto it, pulling herself into a seated position on it, perched on the counter’s lip.  Then, smiling into the kiss, she wrapped her legs around his waist. 

He _moaned_ at her and broke the kiss.  “We can’t…”

“I know…  At least not now,” she said, and then pulled him back into the kiss.

And then her phone buzzed.

They turned and looked at it, and disappointment and frustrated arousal shot through her.  Reaching out, she grabbed it. 

“Yes?” she answered it a bit testily.

“Just letting you know that we’re on our way,” Heather said.  “Should be about fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks.  See you soon,” Astrid said, and after another round of pleasantries, hung up. 

Hiccup was looking at her with heavy-lidded, lust-filled eyes that diminished as he shook his head in an obvious attempt to clear them.  “Okay… later…”

She nodded.  “Later.”  She pushed away a knife that had been not far from where she’d been bracing her hands, and hopped off the counter.  “But… now we know we… _fit_ there.”

Hiccup gave a strangled moan.  “Yeah… we do.  _Gods._ ”

She nodded in agreement.  “Yeah… I could have timed that… better.”  Her center throbbed with frustrated need and the lingering soreness from yesterday’s sexual marathon. 

Fifteen minutes later, she was mostly back in control of herself as Fishlegs’ mother dropped him and Heather off at Hiccup’s front door. 

She snuck a quick peek out the door after she heard the car drive off.  Heather and Fishlegs glanced around to see if anyone was watching, missed her, and gave each other a kiss that made her feel a little embarrassed for having witnessed. 

She supposed that she might be developing that exhibitionist streak, but voyeurism was still not for her apparently. 

Ducking away, she waited for the doorbell to ring.  Hiccup was in the kitchen, preparing lunch, and her mouth was watering with the smells. 

Finally, the doorbell rang, and she opened it. 

“Astrid?  You’re here already?” Fishlegs asked, surprised.  “How—”  He glanced around. 

“Long story.  Come in.  Hiccup is cooking.”

She lead them into the dining room, and went to join Hiccup in the kitchen.  “Well, they’re here,” she said.  “Ready?”

“Yep.”  They loaded up the bowls and plates and brought out the fresh stir-fry, consisting of crisp vegetables, steaming chicken strips, and perfectly cooked rice noodles.  Justin’s eyes grew wide, and Heather inhaled greedily as their bowls were set in front of them. 

“Eat up, Fishlegs,” Hiccup said with a grin.  “There’s plenty more where that came from, and it’s best fresh.”  He bent down and placed the last bowl on the floor. 

“Don’t mind if I do,” Fishlegs said, and dug in with gusto.  Next to him, Heather did the same.  On the floor, the bowl filled with pan-fried chicken and dog-safe vegetables was pounced on by Toothless, who practically wallowed in it. 

Behind them in the kitchen, Astrid heard Gobber ask if there enough for him and Stoick, and gave a little cheer when they told him yes.  Otherwise, though, people were mostly occupied with eating. 

Finally, though, Fishlegs finished eating and put down his utensils.  “So… um…”  He blushed.  “So… I read that post Astrid made and Heather said… said that you’d…”

Astrid reached out and gently patted him on the back of the hand.  “No need to be awkward, Justin.  You’re with friends.”

“Well, um… so… you know about me and Heather… but we’re keeping quiet because Dagur scares the crap out of me…”

“And doesn’t like him,” Heather said sourly.  “For whatever inane reason.”

“But… why did you two… um…”

Hiccup sighed.  “It’s like this, Fishlegs…”

 


	16. Chapter 15: I Wanna Shelter You

**Chapter 15: I Wanna Shelter You**

“It’s like this, Fishlegs,” Hiccup said, and smiled at his friend.  “Astrid’s dad… is an asshole.  An abusive, controlling asshole.”

“That’s putting it mildly,” Astrid said tartly, taking another bite of her stir-fry.  They’d deliberately loaded up the bowl with stuff that was palatable to her, which had resulted in a bowl of mostly noodles and a few of the blander vegetables.  “My life wasn’t mine.  It was his.  I couldn’t do what I wanted—just what he wanted.  And that… that included dating.”

Hiccup sighed.  “But he didn’t see me as someone she’d be interested in.”

Heather nodded and waved her fork for emphasis.  “Yeah.  He was more concerned with the footballers and the like.”

“So then he hired Hiccup last year as my tutor, because he didn’t see a _nerd_ like him as a threat to me.”  She snorted.  “His mistake.”

Fishlegs scowled.  “I wonder what he would have thought of me if I’d actually joined the rugby team.”

Hiccup snorted.  “‘Error.  Error.  Does Not Compute.  Error.  Error.’”  He mimed a robot exploding and let his head loll as if he was dead. 

Astrid rolled her eyes and said, “I’d pay money to see that.”  She looked down at her bowl.  “Not that I have any.”  She ran her spoon around the edge of the bowl.  “My allowance was kept on a debit card account—which is frozen now.  We checked yesterday.”  She drummed her fingers on the table.  “Not that it matters.  He saw any account activity and I had to justify anytime I took out cash.  Called it ‘being responsible.’  Buying my phone… was hard.”

Heather reached over and patted Astrid’s hand as Hiccup sighed.  He remembered helping her with that… but she’d refused to let him actually _buy_ the phone for her.  While he’d done the act of purchasing it himself, it had been with Astrid’s own money, carefully hoarded away from various little things and bits of change that she’d managed to accumulate. 

And now she was completely dependent on him.  He wondered when that would start to chafe on her…

Shaking his head, he got back to the discussion at hand.  “So, yeah.  We started dating during our tutoring sessions… last winter break.”

Fishlegs gave him a surprised—and hurt—look.  “You… you didn’t say anything?  For almost a whole year?”

Hiccup hung his head.  “Fish… Justin.  Do you see the bruise on Astrid’s face?”

Fishlegs nodded.  “I saw the picture, yeah.”  He glanced at her face and grimaced.  “And… well… it looks pretty bad now.”

“Her dad did that when he found out that she was dating,” Hiccup said, gesturing to Astrid’s cheek and then turned to Fishlegs and, extending his hands palm-up to Fishlegs, gestured emphatically, “Fish, I’m sorry I hurt your feelings… but tell me that I was wrong to keep it a secret!”

Fishlegs looked at her face, then back at Hiccup, and then down at his bowl.  He stood, walked to the kitchen and got a second bowl of stir fry and then came back.  Spearing a broccoli floret on his fork, he finally said, “I… I guess not.  Just… just next time you have a secret… trust me?”

Hiccup turned and shared a look with Astrid.  She looked at him, a bit pained, and then nodded.  They’d brought him here to talk to him anyway…

He sighed and looked down to clear his head.  Fishlegs seemed to realize that something was amiss, put down his utensils, and swallowed.  “What is it?”

Meeting his friend’s eyes, he said “Justin… okay.  Um… so we are trusting you.”  Hiccup slumped a little.  So far, they hadn’t told Fishlegs anything that he couldn’t have gotten from the blog post.  That was about to change.  “First…  Astrid is going to be staying here.”

Fishlegs’ eyes bugged at that.  “Whoa.   Hiccup… I mean… people are going to think that you two are—”

Hiccup held up a hand, and Fishlegs paused.  “What?”

“Second… well, how… how Mr. Hofferson found out that Astrid was dating at all…”  Hiccup looked down at his bowl.  “She’s pregnant.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from across the table, and Fishlegs gasped out, “By Frigga…”

Hiccup winced.  While that was a mild oath by most people’s standards… Fishlegs never swore.  His language was practically as pure as the winter’s snow. 

He wondered if he was about to lose one of his few decent friends.  Because if Fishlegs criticized her or treated her poorly… that’s what would happen.

Fishlegs seems to be trying to think, and took another bite of his stir fry.  And then another.  Swallowing the mouthful of chicken and peppers, he asked, “So… um… what happened?”  He glanced at his girlfriend, as Heather had a sardonic look on her face, and added, “ _Besides_ the obvious?”

“Expired condom,” Hiccup said matter-of-factly.  “I bought a big box at the beginning of the summer, rather than go out repeatedly… and the last one was past its expiration date.”  Astrid’s hand snuck over to his, and they entwined their fingers.  They’d convinced themselves that it had been safe… but they’d managed to get themselves very aroused first, and it hadn’t taken much convincing on her part to get Hiccup to put on the old condom and fuck her silly.  And he’d gone along with it, despite his misgivings.  And despite what she’d said, it was his fault too, in not checking, and not putting his foot down.

“Oh,” was all Fishlegs had to say.  He blushed and took another careful bite of his stir fry.  He took his time in chewing and swallowing it, and then he asked, not looking up from his bowl, “Um… so… are you going to keep it?”

Hiccup shared a look with Astrid.  She gave him a weak smile and nodded her head towards Fishlegs.  Hiccup shook his head.  “Will your opinion of us change based on how I answer?”

Fishlegs shook his head.  “Henry… you’re my friend.  I’m just… surprised.”

“And what do you think?” Astrid asked softly.

“I think that… that you’re both awfully young to be parents… but that Henry would be an awesome dad.  And that if you do… keep it, your social lives at school are going to feel like the Fimbulwinter has come.”

Hiccup smirked.  “How would I even notice?”

Heather snorted.  “He’s got a point there.  And I wouldn’t abandon Astrid.  Neither will Ruff, Merida, or Cami.”

Astrid shrugged.  “And if I get booted from some of my extracurriculars, that’s fine.  I do half—more than half—of them because my father insisted.”

“So… um… are you?  Going to keep it, I mean?” Fishlegs asked.

“First… what do you think?” Astrid responded.

“Well… I mean… it’s a big shock, obviously.  But, but, well…”  He held up his hands helplessly.  “I don’t know what I think.  I mean… it’s a shock… and, well…”  He glanced at Heather for a brief instant.  “But I understand a bit of why you didn’t tell, and I guess… I guess that I, I…”  He swallowed and looked down, and said, sounding ashamed, “I guess I’m jealous.”

Hiccup cocked his head.  “Jealous?  Really?”

“Well… we’ve… I’ve…”

Heather snorted.  “I’ll handle this one, Fish.  Dagur was okay with me dating Eret.  But he doesn’t like Justin.”

“Ever since I turned down a spot as the goalie on the football team,” Fishlegs said morosely, poking absently at his bowl with his fork.  “He played a really nasty prank—”

Hiccup blurted out, “Wait, that was him?  With the rotten fish?”

Fishlegs nodded, looking queasy at the memory.  “Yeah.  So, so, we’ve been careful…”

Heather put her hand on his arm.  “Because if my _dear_ brother acted like that for Justin turning down the team, then I don’t want to know how he’d react to me dating him.” 

Astrid grimaced.  “Fair.”  She looked down at her bowl.  “Want me to talk to him?  He might listen to me.”

Fishlegs shook his head emphatically.  “No!”

Hiccup and Astrid shared another look.  Turning back to Fishlegs, Hiccup said, “He’ll have to find out eventually, Justin.  And she managed to get him off of my case.”

“Well, um… so, yeah, like I was saying, I’m feeling bit jealous,” Fishlegs said, clearly trying to push the conversation off of him.  “But I’m hoping that if it comes to it, us going public with our relationship will be less painful.”

Heather rolled her eyes.  “And meanwhile, Dagur has been trying to get me to go out with Ryan Macintosh.”

“Oh, eww,” Hiccup said.  “Isn’t he already in a relationship with his own ego?”

Heather snorted and Astrid said, “No, his ego is shacked up with his reflection somewhere.”

Fishlegs deadpanned, “Oh, so he’s a vampire.  That explains so much.”

They all laughed, and the tension broke. 

Fishlegs bowed his head, smiling.

Then Astrid said, “to answer your question from before… we haven’t decided yet.”  She drummed her fingers on the table.  “But we don’t have to decide yet.”

Fishlegs nodded.  “Well… um… if you do keep it… sign me up for babysitting duties?”

“Really?” Hiccup asked, surprised.  Astrid made a noise of shock as well.

Fishlegs grinned.  “I want my pay split between cash and your cookies, though.”

They all laughed. 

Then the doorbell rang. 

Hiccup excused himself to answer it, and, unsurprisingly, it was Alvin.

As he walked the big lawyer back to his dad’s office, Hiccup asked, curious, “So, Alvin, how did you get roped into this anyway?  You’re specialized in finance law, aren’t you?”

“Aye.  But I have an existing working relationship with Cameron,” Alvin said.

“And I bet you’re getting a pretty good payday out of this,” Hiccup observed.

“No comment,” Alvin said, a small smirk on his face.  “But since you asked me a question, I’ll ask you one, Henry.”  Before Hiccup could deny him the opportunity, Alvin asked, “Why’d you do it, Henry?  He invited you into his house, and you seduced his daughter and knocked her up?”

Hiccup scowled.  “Is that what he’s saying to you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I…” Hiccup started to respond, and then clamped his mouth shut. 

“Really, Henry.  I thought that Stoick raised you better than that.  Oh, wait.  He really didn’t raise you did—”

Hiccup felt a red flash of anger at the insult to his dad, and his mouth was moving almost before he realized.  “She seduced me, you ass!  I didn’t think I had a chance unt—shit,” Hiccup clamped his mouth shut again when he realized that he’d risen to the bait. 

“Mmmh?  You were saying?”

“Go talk to our lawyer,” Hiccup said flatly, and turned to go back to his friends.

“Oh, I will,” Alvin said, sounding satisfied.  “I will.”

Hiccup walked away, feeling like he’d lost somehow. 

The rest of Justin and Heather’s visit passed amiably, although there was some light teasing of the other couple for failing to bed each other.  Then Fishlegs revealed, with full self-deprecating humor, that they’d almost managed once… and had been interrupted.  By Heather’s dad. 

As for their current visit, both of their parental sets thought that it was for a study session with Hiccup, as it seemed that neither the Ingermans or Oswaldsson parents had yet found out that Astrid was at the Haddock house. 

Then they had to go.  As Mrs. Ingerman’s car pulled into the driveway, Justin, on seeming impulse, pulled Hiccup and Astrid into a group hug.  “You two be safe, okay?”

They nodded, and Hiccup said, “And remember if you need a place to hide from Dagur, my…” he glanced at Astrid, who nodded with a smile, “ _our_ door is open.”

“Thanks, Hiccup,” Fishlegs said fondly.  “I hope that won’t be necessary, though.”

Hiccup shrugged.  “Just in case.”

Fishlegs grinned, released them, and left. 

As they closed the door, Hiccup said, “Well… that’s another one down. And really the only ones that I care about knowing.”

Astrid shrugged.  “I’ve got a few more.  But we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.  For the moment… you promised me video games.”

Hiccup grinned.  “That I did.  Co-op or competitive?” 

“Co-op for now… but I’ll kick your ass when I get used to them,” she said, grinning back. 

“You’re on!” he said, and they went to the lounge to break out the console and the spare controller.  Another round of 5/3/2, and then he and Astrid spent a cheerful afternoon slaughtering Covenant and Heretic troops, followed by dealing with the Flood.  Astrid took an almost unholy glee in the energy sword, to the point where Hiccup made sure that she got first dibs on them. 

“So, Hiccup,” Astrid asked at one point as she drove the tank through the Halo ring’s terrain, “how’d you get an Eighteen-rated game?”

He chuckled.  “Gobber bought it for him and Stoick years ago.”

She coughed.  “You’re _kidding.”_

“Nope.  Let me tell you, it was _epic_ to watch the two of them, Uncle Spitelout and Lieutenant Franklin having a co-op game and using actual military tactics,” Hiccup said with enthusiasm, trying to hijack an enemy vehicle before his girlfriend blew it up.

He’d just about managed it when it exploded.

“Hey!” he protested as his screen flashed from his shields being down.

“Oops,” she said innocently.

“You’re having way too much fun with that tank!” he commented with a smile.

“Guilty!” she said with glee.  “It’s even more fun than you driving and me using the turret on those jeeps!”

They ended up playing through about half of the campaign before they broke for dinner.  Despite never having really played video games before, Astrid had a knack—and an aggressive instinct—that made her lethal on the digital battlefields, once she got the hang of using the controller. 

After dinner, aided by their soreness, they’d gotten out Hiccup’s textbooks and reviewed for an hour. 

As they were looking over Hiccup’s Physics textbook, heads together—Astrid’s books were still back at her parents’ house—Hiccup suddenly became aware of someone watching them.  He looked up to see his father watching the two of them with glee, holding his phone and clearly taking pictures.  They posed for him for a few more pictures, making outrageous faces for the camera, before returning to their studies. 

It was funny, though, as they reviewed.  For over a year now, they’d been studying together at her parents’ house, under their supervision.  For the last ten months, there had been a constant fear of showing too much affection or intimacy while studying.  But now that they were together…

It was both as if nothing had changed and everything had changed, at the same time.  They were still bouncing concepts off of each other, still egging each other on towards full comprehension of the topics, complete with bantering and light putdowns, just as it always had been.

But now… now when he made a sassy comment to her about pressure and Boyle’s Law, they didn’t have to worry about keeping their hands to themselves.  Instead, Astrid hopped into his lap and kissed him silly before commenting dryly, “Yes, I can see why increasing the pressure raises the temperature.”

“Well…” he managed to get out as she ground her hips against his freshly sprouted erection, “that’s why a bike tyre heats up when you, ahem, _pump_ air into it.”

They both moaned, and it took some effort on both of their parts to stop there.  Really, it was only their lingering soreness and the fact that Stoick and Gobber were right down the hallway kept them from ‘blessing’ the dining room right then and there. 

As they finished up on the Physics, Astrid gave him a deadpan look, and said, “You know, only the two of us could get ourselves hot and bothered after flirting with physics jokes.”

Hiccup waggled his eyebrows.  “This is not a new observation.  We’ve been talking nerdy with each other for months.”

She snorted.  “True.  But it’s good to have the followup.”  She leaned up against him.  “You know.  Redoing the experiment after changing one of the variables.”

Hiccup laid his hands on her sides and gently stroked up and down, making her shiver.  “I think that the results show that the conclusion hasn’t changed…”

She leaned in.  “Nope,” she said quietly, and kissed him. 

They were both breathing heavily at the end of the kiss, and it took Hiccup actual effort to turn away from her and pull out the next textbook.  “Here.  Philosophy and Rhetoric.  We’ll be… naturals,” he said, panting slightly.

She was also breathing deeply, and nodded, her eyes dilated with arousal.  “Yeah.  And we’d better be.  Mr. Mildew has been giving all of those dire hints about the debate section we’re doing after break.”

He nodded, and they turned to the textbook.  As they worked through the rules and structure of formal debate, Hiccup thought on how much easier it was to study like this… and yet so, so, _so_ much more difficult at the same time. 

But just because they were so in love that it _hurt_ didn’t mean that Astrid was going easy on him; she trounced him in their first practice debate. 

Snapping the book shut, she gave him a deadpan look.  “Hiccup.  Brains.  On.”

He gave her an apologetic look and moaned, “Sorry.  Blood’s otherwise occupied.”

She snorted and gave a rueful nod.  “Shall we come back to this later?”

He chortled painfully.  “No… I’ll be good.  Promise.”  He slumped his head a bit.  “It’s not like this is a new problem for me.”

She snorted again and rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, but before, we usually did the studying _after_ the screwing.”

Hiccup grinned at her.  “Shall we move to rewards-based?”

“What, for every successful debate you win, you get laid?”   She glanced him up and down and then shook her head.  “No, because that gives _me_ a disincentive to win.  I _want_ to get laid.”

Hiccup shrugged.  “Point conceded.”

She pointed her finger at his face.  “Oh, don’t _you_ start that now.”

“Interjection!  Appeal to personal consequences!” Hiccup said cheerfully.

She slumped and then they laughed together. 

#

The next morning, Astrid woke up blearily, and then realized where she was—stark naked, wrapped in Hiccup’s arms on his narrow bed.  They’d been good yesterday, and she was much less sore… so they’d made love right before bed, with him on top so as to spare her neck.  They’d fallen asleep while lying together and appreciating the afterglow. 

She snuggled deeper into his arms, and he murmured sleepily into her hair as his arms tightened around her.  She could feel his morning wood up against her rear, and glanced at the clock.  And frowned. 

The alarm on his phone would be going off in the next few minutes.  She must have already gotten conditioned to it and woken up right before it. 

She hated her brain some days. 

Then a naughtier thought occurred to her, and she gently pulled herself free of his arms, even as a little part of her regretted the loss of his grip.

Free, she pulled herself out of the bed, shivering slightly, but Stoick must already be awake, as the house was already warming up, and a stream of warm air was coming from the vents.  Well, no matter either way; she was planning on being back under the covers momentarily.  She crouched by the foot of the bed and crawled up under the blanket.  Ironically, Hiccup’s missing leg made her progress easier; the prosthetic was lying off to the side, leaning up against the desk, next to the small vacuum pump that he used to secure the cup to his stump.  So there was room for her to crouch under the blanket below his hips… and she reached out and found his cock, standing stiff at attention. 

Grinning, she opened wide and started to lick around the crown and shaft.  He shuddered in her grasp, and then muttered.

Smirking as best she could, given the circumstances, she took him deep in her mouth and started to run her tongue up and down the shaft as she sucked. 

With a gasp, he startled and woke—and she’d timed it perfectly, as his alarm started to play, with the rock band singing. 

She rolled him onto his back and started to bob her head up and down in earnest.  Her neck was still sore, but it was just twinges of discomfort, nothing major like it had been the other day. 

_“Astrid!?”_ Hiccup gasped out, and flung back the blanket, uncovering her as Imagine Dragons sang about the blessings of dreams. 

She released him with a pop and grinned at him.  “Good morning, love.”

“I… what…”

“Do you mind?  I’ll stop if you want…” she said, as seductively as she could manage.

He blinked and then his eyes roved up and down her naked body.  “I… I… I was not expecting that…”

“You _did_ say that I could give you those orgasms I owe you anytime I wanted,” she said cheekily, and reached out to grasp him.  She started to stroke him, and he moaned.

“I did, didn’t I?” he moaned, and started to chuckle.  “Well, I’m not going to go back on my word.”

“Good,” she said, and practically dove back onto his cock without further ceremony. 

He gasped and moaned as she started to work him over with her lips, tongue and fingers, bouncing back and forth between taking him in as deep as she could, and pulling back so that she could lavish attention on his tip. 

“Gods, you’re so good…” he moaned out as the band sang about everything you touch turns to gold.

Smiling, she swirled her tongue around the rim of his glans, sucking gently and occasionally humming to give pleasurable vibrations.  She kept that up until he was panting and giving her loving profanities, and stroking his shaft with one hand the whole while, as her other hand played with his balls. 

When he sounded like he was getting close, just as the song was ending, she released him and glanced up at his sweating face.  “Where do you want to come, Hiccup?”

“I… what?” he asked blearily.  It was pretty obvious that his brain wasn’t functioning at full power.

Still stroking him with one hand, she leaned on her side and braced her head on the other hand.  “Where do you want to come?  In me?  _On_ me?  In my mouth?”

He moaned lustfully at her, his eyes darting up and down her body, but didn’t say anything coherent. 

She grinned.  “My choice then, eh?”  She bent down and took him in her mouth again, and went as deep as possible for a brief moment, doing her best to keep from gagging on him for the moment his cock hit the back of her throat.  Then she quickly backed out as he gave a moan and took him fully out of her mouth. 

The first streamer of his come hit her on the face just below the eye, followed quickly by another one on her nose.  Cackling gleefully, she pumped him until he was dry and then sat back to enjoy the facial.  She’d never have dared do this just a few days before, and that gave it that much sharper of an edge of pleasure. 

Catching him staring at her, she slowly and deliberately licked up one of the spots closest to her mouth.

He moaned and twitched.  “You’re evil…” he breathed out. 

She shrugged, still grinning.  “Good morning, lover,” she said, and ran a finger through some of the other come, gathering up a bit on her fingertip.  As he stared at her, she delicately licked it off of the finger. 

“Really, really evil…” he moaned, although he was smiling and shaking his head.

“We should set a timer,” she said cheerfully.  “You know, for science.  To see how long your refractory period really is.”

He started to laugh helplessly.  “This is a dream, and I’m going to wake up and…”

“And what?  Find out that your girlfriend is actually a perv that enjoys this sort of thing?” she asked gleefully. 

“Oh?  So are facials one of your fetishes?” he asked, shaking his head, grinning, and holding his hand over one eye.

She shrugged, still grinning.  “I don’t think so.  I mean, I enjoyed it, but not like I’d expect a fetish to feel.”  She spooned up a little bit more on her finger and took another lick, smirking as she watched him twitch.  “But who knows?  Maybe they’ll grow on me.”

Hiccup snorted.  “Well, as much as I enjoy engaging in science, you’ll understand my hesitation with having Dad see you like that?”

She shrugged humorously.  “I _suppose_.”  Then another idea bubbled up from the wordplay-enjoying part of her mind.  “On that note…” she said, trailing off significantly.

Hiccup was suddenly looking at her with a bit of trepidation.  “Please don’t tell me that you’re not going to clean it off.”  He was clearly imagining what Stoick and Gobber would say if she walked out of the bedroom with his seed all over her face. 

“Oh, I will.  It’s already getting uncomfortably cold.  No…” she said, bending forward and moving up at him on her hands and knees, “no, what I want to know is…” she finished crawling up to where her face was up by his face, and plucked a tissue from the nearby box, “do you want to try anal at some point?”

Hiccup coughed and blinked as she demurely started to wipe her face clean. 

“You’re… you’re not serious?”

She punted the tissue into the trash and grinned at him.  “No, I am.  Maybe I’ll like it, maybe I won’t.  But I want to at least _try_ it.”

Hiccup blinked, and then ostentatiously pinched himself.  And then yelped when she gave him a pinch of her own. 

“Satisfied that you’re not dreaming?” she asked sweetly, waggling her eyebrows at him.  He was honestly so sweet.  “Yes, Hiccup, your naked pregnant girlfriend is currently practically lying on top of you and asking if you want to have her third and final virginity.”  She smirked as she grabbed another tissue and cleaned her other cheek.  “You’ve already gotten the other two.”

“I… I hadn’t thought of it that way,” he admitted after a pause, his eyes tracking her hand as she mopped up her face.

“Neither had I until Cami brought it up the other day.”  She tossed the tissue into the trash with its fellow.  “But, thinking on it… yeah.  I want to try it, if you’re up for it.”

“Why?” he asked.  “I mean… yes, I want to, I think, but why do you want to?”

“Why do you want to know?” she asked back.

“Because I want you to be happy and safe,” he rebutted.  “And if you’re doing it just for me to ‘take that third virginity’, then no.”

She rolled her eyes and slumped onto him, letting her joints go boneless and making the air rush out of him in an enjoyable “Ooof!” 

Rolling her head on his chest, her ear against his breastbone, his heartbeat audible, she said, “Because I want to try it.  Because it’s something that we never could have done at my parents’ house, and I want to do as many loud and messy sexy things with you as I can.”  She poked him in the side, making him cough.  “And because I _do_ love you, you doofus, and if I’m going to do it with anyone, it’s going to be you.”  She poked his other side, and started to tickle him.  “How’s that for reasons?” she asked as she went mercilessly for his ticklish spots. 

He was shaking with silent laughter as her fingers worked his sides.  “Can’t… breathe…” he gasped out.

She released the tickling, and he gasped in air—and then she kissed him.  He was a bit unresponsive for a moment, panting in some air through his nose, but then started to kiss her back with fervor. 

And the fact that his cock had been in her mouth repeatedly—not just now, but last night—didn’t matter one bit to him. 

Then he broke the kiss just as their tongues were rubbing against each other, sending thrills to her center. 

“Okay.  Those are good reasons,” he said earnestly.  “And… if you’re interested, then I’ll, I’ll research how to—”

“Safely stick your dick in my ass?” she said sweetly, grinning. 

He rolled his eyes.  “If you want to put it that way—”

She shimmied on top of him.  “Yes, yes I do,” she purred, smirking. 

He snorted and wrapped his arms around her.  “Damn, you’re in a mood this morning,” he said with a smile as he started to stroke her back.

“I’m happy, safe… and horny,” she said cheerfully. 

He snorted and kissed her shoulder.

“No morning sickness, my neck barely hurts, the bruises are fading, I gave us both a great memory to start the day with…” she said, and with a wink, continued, “although I wouldn’t be against making it an even better memory, and—”

The doorbell rang. 

She and Hiccup both froze and blinked. 

“What the fuck?” she said, glancing at the clock.  “It’s barely eight in the morning!”

There was movement downstairs and she heard the door opening, followed by indistinct conversation. 

Astrid twisted out of the bed and crept over to the door.  Opening it, she heard Stoick talking to someone, and scowled, her good mood evaporating. 

Sighing, she turned back to Hiccup, and said, “Let’s go shower.  Father’s lawyer is here.”

Hiccup swore softly and then nodded, reaching for his prosthetic, the cup, and the vacuum pump.  The work of a couple of minutes let him attach it, and they ducked out quickly to the bathroom; the ground floor couldn’t really see into the upper story, but it was more the general principle of it.  A quick shower ensued, with the flirty mood from before having evaporated.  They still helped each other soap up and shower off, but it was much more detached than previously.  They still kissed and smiled at each other as they helped each other wash their backs and hair, but the flirty feelings from before just weren’t there.

As a result, they were done much more quickly than they had before, and quickly dried off and got dressed.  They’d just reached the ground floor when the doorbell rang again. 

Hiccup, unthinking, went and opened it.

Astrid felt her gut chill like she’d just swallowed liquid nitrogen at the sight of who was standing on the front step.

“Mother.”


	17. Chapter 16: But With The Beast Inside

**Chapter 16: But With The Beast Inside**

“Mother,” Astrid said, and her voice was so toneless that Hiccup gave her a worried look. 

“Astrid, dear,” Mrs. Hofferson said, gracefully stepping inside and towards Astrid… who backed up and moved slightly behind Hiccup.

Oh shit.

Mrs. Hofferson’s gaze fell on Hiccup, and her eyes narrowed and her lip curled in a sneer, which diminished after a moment.  Hiccup looked back at her as levelly as he could manage—although it didn’t help that he had to look up.  Even without the heels she was currently wearing, Mrs. Hofferson was taller than he was by a centimeter or three, and with them, he had to look up to her.  Physically, she resembled Astrid as an adult… but the resemblance ended there.  Instead of his lover’s drive and passion lighting the fires behind her blue eyes, Mrs. Hofferson’s face seemed to be set in condescension.  Or that might just be when she looked at him.  And while it flattered her figure, the tailored pants-suit that she wore was the sort of thing that Astrid hated, as impossible to move in, constricting, and rendering her into an ornament, as she’d told him after one venting rant last spring.  But ‘dressed to impress’ she was… for an early morning visit to his home… soon after Alvin showed up.  Hiccup didn’t think that was a coincidence. 

But, despite meeting his eyes, she didn’t say anything to him, and her gaze tracked towards Astrid.  Hiccup reached back and grasped her hand—and had to hold back a gasp as she clenched his fingers so hard that it hurt.

“Astrid, dear, what’s wrong?” Mrs. Hofferson said.  “Are you all right?”

Hiccup heard Astrid swallow, and she said, “I’m alright… no thanks to Father.”

“Your father is concerned for you, dear.  He wants only the best for you,” Mrs. Hofferson said, practically oozing maternal concern, advancing deeper into the house—making Astrid back further up and taking Hiccup with her. 

“He’s got a funny way of showing it,” Astrid said tartly, and Hiccup saw her point to the fading bruise on her cheek out of the corner of his eye.

Mrs. Hofferson didn’t even blink.  “You’re young, and you don’t understand—”

“I understand enough, thanks, _Mother,_ ” Astrid hissed, and her hand clenched on Hiccup’s again.

“Don’t you take that tone with me, Astrid!” Mrs. Hofferson said tightly.  “I am your mother, and you will respect that.  Just as you should respect your father!”

“Respect.  My father,” Astrid said flatly, the only sign of her distress being the tingling feeling in Hiccup’s fingertips from how tightly she was gripping his hand.  “For what?”

“He’s your _father,_ Astrid!  How could you _say_ such a thing?”  Mrs. Hofferson looked at them incredulously.  “We’ve raised you, we’ve brought you up to excel, we’ve given you everything you wanted, and this is how you repay us?”

“Repay… you?” Astrid’s tone was so flat that Hiccup fancied he could have used it as a frictionless plane.  Behind them, Hiccup could hear the _click-click_ of Toothless’s feet on the floor, and felt his dog come up behind them in silent support.

“Yes!  Rumors are already starting to spread.  Do you know what people are saying about us?  You’ve torn this family apart publicly, given your father’s enemies a scandal to use against him, and made me into a laughingstock!  How could you _do_ this to us?”  She stepped forward again, her hand extended as if to push Hiccup aside and grasp Astrid by the shoulder, but, almost quicker than Hiccup could see, Astrid reached forward and batted the hand aside with her own free hand. 

“Don’t you _touch_ him,” she growled—a sound that Toothless echoed.

Mrs. Hofferson glanced at her hand and dropped it back down to her side.  “I understand that you’ve been under tremendous pressure, dear, but we did it for _you._   Honestly, this teenaged rebellion is almost… cliché.  But we get the message.  What do you _want,_ Astrid?”  Astrid stiffened next to Hiccup, but didn’t say anything, so her mother continued.  “More responsibility?  Less?  Some more privileges?  You’re sixteen, maybe a credit card or we can start looking into a car for when you turn—”

“That’s _enough_ ,” Astrid said curtly.  “What, do you think _bribing_ me into going back is going to work?  I’m _already_ free of you!  And what _the hell_ are you doing here!?”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me, Astrid!” Mrs. Hofferson said angrily.  “If you actually think that you have feelings for this… boy,” she glanced at Hiccup, acknowledging his existence for the first time, and the disdain in her eyes made Hiccup feel almost nostalgic for when some of his dad’s coworkers visited and looked down on him, “then imagine what you’re doing to him.”

Hiccup heard Astrid’s teeth grind together, and she bit out, “Meaning _what,_ exactly?”

“If you actually think that you’re fond of him, then you won’t ruin his life—or ours—by acting like this, Astrid,” she gestured wildly at herself and Hiccup.

“I’m not _fond_ of him, I _love_ him,” Astrid said angrily.  “And he loves me.”

“Oh, please.  How can he?  You trapped—”

“I think that I can speak for myself,” Hiccup interrupted, and put his free arm around Astrid’s shoulders.  “And I love Astrid.  She’s the best thing to ever happen to me.”  Next to them, Toothless rubbed up against their legs protectively.

“I’m not talking to you, Haddock,” Mrs. Hofferson said angrily.  “You exploited my good nature by coming into my home and corrupting my daughter.  And now you have some hold over her.  In fact…”  she turned back to Astrid, “we should have this talk alone, without this… this _cripple_ listening in—”

“What did you just call him?” Astrid said dangerously.

“Oh, please, he’s hardly a _whole_ man, is he?  That’s why I’m so certain this is an act of rebellion.  I mean, you couldn’t have found a _proper_ man to run off with.”

Hiccup was pretty certain that the only reason his girlfriend wasn’t a matricide was because she was staring at Mrs. Hofferson, aghast with shock.  Then she shifted and leaned forward.  “What are you here for?” she said, fuming to the point Hiccup was surprised she wasn’t snorting flames from her nose.  And, of course, just to make it worse, Toothless was growling, and staring at Mrs. Hofferson angrily. 

“I wanted to try to convince you to come home and give up this rebellion, knowing that your complaints have been heard.  But if you’re persisting with this, the lawyer convinced us to extend a gesture of good faith.  Some of your things are in the boot.”

Astrid started forward, pulling her shoulders free of Hiccup’s slung arm, only to run into her mother’s outstretched hand.  “Uh uh.  Not so fast.  Why not just come home, dear?  I promise that we’ll fix whatever the problem is.”

“Not likely, since the problem is Father, and you _enabling_ him, Mother,” Astrid ground out as she backed up and away, and Toothless moved in front of her protectively.

“Oh please.  Why are you being so _dramatic,_ Astrid?  Your father and I only want the best for you—”

“You tried that line once already,” Hiccup snarked.  “I doubt that it’ll work on the second try.”

“Why don’t you leave us _alone,_ Mr. Haddock,” she said back caustically, and then turned back to Astrid.  “Dear, I don’t understand why your standards are so low, really.”

Astrid glared at her.  “You’re not doing your case any good, Mother,” she said angrily. 

“No, I mean, listen, really!  You ran off with a, a…” she looked Hiccup up and down disdainfully, “crippled scrawny freak—”

“You _stop!”_ Astrid yelled at her mother.  “Just… just stop!” 

Mrs. Hofferson looked at her levelly.  “Fine.  Come home and we’ll talk.” 

Hiccup heard the door to the office open behind him, but before his dad could come to the rescue—or to make it worse—Astrid said, “No, I’m not leaving him.”

“ _Why?_   He’s not a whole man, or a real one.  I mean, really, he’s just so unmanly… wait.”  A light dawned in her eyes and she glanced at both of them.  “Astrid, darling, are you… are you into women?”

“That’s _it!”_ Astrid screamed, and lunged at her mother—and likely would have throttled her, if not for Hiccup grabbing her shoulder with his free hand and hauling her back just as his father and Alvin came into view.  “Get the fuck out of my _home,_ you evil _bitch!”_

“What’s going on here?” Stoick asked sternly. 

“I came to deliver my daughter’s belongings, but first I wanted to speak with her and—”

Astrid stopped struggling against Hiccup’s grip and hissed at her mother, “ _Speak with me?_   You mean try to _bribe_ me into going back, and insulting my boyfriend with every other breath!”  She broke Hiccup’s hold almost casually, and stalked forward, even as Hiccup tried to interpose himself between her and her mother—who was looking at him dismissively. 

Astrid came to a halt, the two of them just out of arm’s reach of her mother, and said, in a voice that made Hiccup think of shattering glass and molten iron, “And he’s man enough for me.”  She sneered.  “He’s man enough that I’m carrying his _baby!”_

Hiccup saw that hit more intensely than any punch Astrid could have thrown.  Mrs. Hofferson’s face was a rictus of denial and shock, and then Astrid twisted the knife. 

“Yeah, _Mother_ , I’m _pregnant._ Guess Father didn’t tell you that part, did he?”  Astrid snorted harshly.  “If your high society girlfriends are sneering at you for a runaway daughter, I can’t _wait_ to see how they’ll treat you for having a teenaged mother for a child!”

“Astrid, I think that’s enough,” Stoick said softly, as Hiccup did his best to push Astrid back and away from her parent—who was rapidly passing through Denial and into Anger.  “Ma’am,” Stoick continued, looking at his uninvited guest, “I’m going to ask you to leave now.”

“Not without my daughter!” she said obstinately, and stepped forward and reaching out—

“OW!”

—only to withdraw her hand, it obviously stinging, as Astrid blocked it ruthlessly.  Toothless barked protectively, trying to intimidate Mrs. Hofferson with his remaining few teeth.

“Get. _Out_ ,” Astrid bit out and pointed to the door. 

“I’d highly advise leaving, ma’am,” Alvin said, rubbing his face as he watched.  “You’re making my job harder.”

“Fine,” she said, and stalked to the door.  Opening it, she marched through and slammed it behind her, setting every picture hanging on the walls to rattling and making Toothless bark in protest at the noise.

Stoick rumbled, “What was that about?”

“She came in and tried to convince Astrid to leave,” Hiccup said.

Astrid sucked in a breath.  “Oh, that’s not even half of it.  Tell him everything, Hiccup.”  Her hands tightened to the point where Hiccup heard her knuckles pop.

“Henry… what did she say?”

“Um… well, aside from a lot of slurs and libel against me, she tried to bribe Astrid to return—”

There was a sound of something soft hitting the door.

“What’s that?”

Hiccup turned and went to the side window, to see Mrs. Hofferson tossing trash bags at the front step from out of the boot of the car.

Oh.

“What is it?” Astrid asked.

“Assuming she was telling the truth… your stuff.”

#

Astrid stood back as Hiccup opened the door and started to pass in the trash bags to his father.  Meanwhile, she’d been instructed to photograph everything.

As evidence.

Her heart was pounding and her hands felt clammy as she took picture after picture of the bags of her possessions were brought in; she stood at the side of the staircase, well back from the door, Toothless pressed up against her supportively.  She didn’t know what to think through her rage and her fear.  Her mother… yeah.  She was abused too by her father, she supposed.  With putdowns and the like, but he also supported her in their lavish lifestyle—the near-mansion here on Berk, the London apartment, the ski trips to the Alps…

Her mother was a shallow social climber, nothing more, nothing less.  Astrid loathed her… even as part of her craved her mother’s approval, just as it craved her father’s validation.  Craved that moment when her mother gave a smile of approval and a welcoming hand. 

Admittedly, those moments typically came when she was about to be presented like a purebred piece of livestock, primped and polished like a show-dog… but…

She shivered against Toothless, who made a supportive whine and nudged against her with a comforting soft bark. 

There were half a dozen large trash bags laying on the floor of the living room when the sound of a car door slamming came in through the open door and Hiccup reentered the house.

“That’s all of them.  And, damn, she has a Hel of an evil eye…” her lover said as he closed the door behind him, and they all entered the living room.  She looked at him with fear and need.  Just now… she’d been fighting the impulse to freeze and nod along with her mother’s wants… that feeling of drowning helplessness, of acceding to the orders of her parent, as she always had…

And then she’d tried to push Hiccup out of the way, and it had been like dropping a lit match on a pile of tinder.  And she’d thrown petrol onto the flames when she’d attacked Hiccup. 

Alvin was standing off to the side, watching, and despite the professionally blank expression on his face under his beard, she thought she detected an air of unease or dismay coming from the big man. 

Stoick looked at the array of plastic bags, frowning, and said, “That sends an certain message, doesn’t it?”  He sighed.  “Alright.  Astrid, I’ll take that, and if you’ll start unpacking when I tell you to…” 

She handed the phone off to him, and looked at the array of bags.  Her hands were shaking—from fear or rage or both, she couldn’t tell.  He took the phone, fiddled with the settings for a moment, and then turned the camera on himself.  “All right.  It is…” he glanced at a clock, with the calendar display below it, and read off the date and time, “Thursday, October 13th, 2016, 8:43 AM GMT, and we just had a visit from Mrs. Neilina Hofferson, the mother of my client, who has delivered my client’s possessions, as requested via Advocate Tracure, who is also here as witness—” Stoick turned the phone to point at Alvin, who gave a brief, professional smile, “—and we’re about to begin opening them.”  He turned the phone towards Astrid, who was kneeling on the floor by the bags.  “As you can see, they were delivered in trash bags, and, in the aftermath of a confrontation between my client and her mother, who was attempting to convince her to return to the abusive environment, the bags were hurled at the house’s front step.  What this will mean for the condition of their contents, I do not know.”  He sighed.  “Miss Hofferson, if you would, please, begin opening them.  As you unpack, please detail any significance to the specific items, if any, for the record.”

Swallowing against the lump in her throat, Astrid took the kitchen shears and carefully, in full view of the camera, cut the knot of the ties for the first bag open.  Setting them aside on the coffee table, she pulled the bag open…

And blinked for a moment, uncomprehending, at the colorful mass inside.

Then the variegated lump of cloth resolved itself into her clothes. 

What was left of them.

They’d been ripped, torn, practically _shredded._  

She gasped, and only Hiccup’s presence at her side gave her the strength to continue.  Hands shaking and blood rushing in her ears, stomach roiling with nausea and hate, she started to go through them, sorting out the tattered remnants. 

“These… these are my shirts.  Or they were.  I… I got this one from a concert I went to last year… this one was a gift from a friend who went to the Continent… this one was a birthday present from Hiccup…” 

They were all torn in half, slashed, or ripped wide open, fit only for rags or being stitched together in some Frankenstein Monster garment. 

After minutes of choking back tears and handing Hiccup the pieces of her old life one by one, to be gently folded and stacked in a pile on the couch, she finally found one that was intact, near the bottom.

And she almost threw it across the room, screaming.  But she fought down the impulse, and, her hands shaking so badly she could barely hold onto the silken garment, she looked up at the camera, and said, “This is a formal gown from a society ball I was taken to this past summer.  I hated the whole thing, and my parents spent the whole weekend treating me as their trophy, and the fitting for it… well, the tailor didn’t listen to me at all, just them.”

She glanced at Alvin’s face for a moment, and the lawyer’s mask had slipped.  He looked very much like a man who had told to roll a stone ball uphill—and he was currently watching the ball rolling away from him as he stood only meters away from the peak. 

She returned to the work of going through the destroyed remains of her old wardrobe, and the pattern repeated itself.  Her everyday clothes, including many of her favorites… gone.  T-shirts.  Gone.  Jeans.  Destroyed.  Shoes.  Hacked with knives.  But the fancy things from when she’d paraded around as her parents’ precious porcelain doll… those were included.  Dresses and gowns and formal suits and heels… expensive and hated. 

There were also a few of her personal effects.  The snitch-phone.  Her laptop—still in her school backpack.  Her jewelry box… filled with necklaces and earrings and bracelets that went with the formal gowns. 

The necklace that Hiccup had bought her for Midsummer—the little iridescent carved dragon on a small silver chain—was missing.  As were the other trinkets that her friends had gotten her. 

Gone.

All gone.

She managed to resist throwing the box away only because Stoick was recording her.  But it was a near thing—and her heartache could not be denied much longer, regardless of how much strength she was drawing from Hiccup’s presence at her side.

Finishing the last bag, she crumpled the plastic up in her hands, and tried not to cry. 

“Is that everything?” Stoick asked quietly, having been filming the entire time, as if it was some horrific parody of a Yule gift unwrapping. 

“Yeah, that’s everything,” she said dully, trying to hold back tears. 

“Is there more still potentially back in your parents’ house?” he asked.

She sniffed.  “Yeah.  I… I’d say that it’s maybe a third to half of my total wardrobe?  None of my school clothes were in here, or other formal outfits beyond these few.”

“I’ll see about what happened to the rest,” Stoick promised.  He tapped the phone and set it down, obviously done with recording.

Astrid bolted to her feet and ran for the stairs. 

Hiccup’s footsteps, alternating between flesh and soft plastic, came after her.

She collapsed onto the floor of Hiccup’s bedroom, her knees folded under her like wet paper, and broke out sobbing.

Hiccup’s arms wrapped around her a moment later, and started to rock her back and forth.  He whispered wordless sounds of peace and encouragement as she dealt with the latest blow of betrayal from her parents.

How long they sat there like that, Astrid had no idea.  Long enough that her stomach was rumbling with hunger.

But she had no appetite.  She was instead filled with her emotions… and they threatened to explode.

Instead, she twisted around and kissed Hiccup with all of the intensity and passion of a drowning sailor clinging to a piece of floating wood.   

Surprised, he stiffened, but then relaxed into the kiss, giving her control even as he held onto her.  She continued to kiss him, deeply and passionately, as they laid there on the floor, her body shaking in love and grief and rage.

She pushed him back onto the carpet after another moment, and in the brief gap when their lips were parted, he looked up at her and asked, “Ast… are you…?”

“I need you,” she said desperately, and pulled off her shirt before tackling him the rest of the way to the carpet.  She kissed him again with the same ferocity as before, writhing on top of him as she worked at his belt, and he did the same for hers.  Kicking off her jeans, she hauled him up, yanked off his shirt and then, kissing him once more, pushed him back down to the floor.

He moaned underneath her, and then she shifted off of his lips, aggressively kissing her way down the side of his cheeks and jaw, the rims of his glasses digging into her face.  His moan shot a bolt of pure arousal to her core.  Then she hauled him up to a half-seated position, her nails digging into his back, and planted her lips on his collarbone and _bit._  

He bucked beneath her as she sucked on the skin, gasping her name in distilled desire, and she could feel his cock, already stiff, grow even harder underneath his boxers.  Then, one hand occupied with getting her inconvenient panties out of the way, she moved lower and left another love bite on his chest, her own heart pounding in mixed desire for her lover and hate for her parents and grief for all that she’d had torn away from her. 

She almost tore his boxers getting them off of him, but he helped remove them, and then she mounted him almost ferally, ignoring the nearby bed, her riding him wildly as they laid there on the floor.  She was crying with passion and grief, even as she felt him inside her, pushing her to increasing heights of stimulation, and he was holding onto her like a lifeline. 

Shuddering with emotions that threatened to tear her to pieces, she held onto him as well, but much less gently; she bit him again and again, leaving mark after mark on his shoulders, back, and chest with her teeth, tongue, lips, and nails.  Hiccup moaned beneath her as she claimed him, telling her not to stop, writhing as she marked him as _hers._

Her first climax came almost as a surprise, and Hiccup gasped in lustful pain as she spasmed around him, her nails digging into his back and carving bloody lines below his shoulders.  But he didn’t let go of her.  If anything, he held on tighter.  “I’m here, Astrid… I love you…” he gasped out between thrusts as stars burst behind her eyes.

Tears streaming from her eyes that mixed with their mingled sweat, she panted in pain and lust, and left another love bite on his upper chest that made him moan.

He was hers. 

He was the only thing in the world that was _hers,_ completely and without reservation, offered up with love. 

And she loved him for it. 

She orgasmed again as his talented fingers wedged their way between their frantically bucking bodies and stroked her clit.  She let loose a gasp that was half-profane and half a prayer and all his name, tumbling from her mouth as the most intense climax that she had ever had experienced burst forth, setting every strand of muscle she had to quivering fire.  It went on and on and on, as Hiccup, his hands on her hips, stoked her to greater heights of sensation, a peak that she had never before endured.  Rigid atop him, making noises that echoed in her own ears like the roaring of the sea in a storm, she would have whimpered from the sheer intensity of it, but instead a babble of pain and hope and loss and love emerged from her lips, words that she would never recall but somehow managed to take away the pain and sensation she felt, like steam taking the heat from the water.

Somehow, she managed to continue moving, chasing the pleasure and pain and sensation that might somehow manage to distance her from her feelings.

Underneath her, Hiccup grunted that he was close, and a moment later, he burst, spilling deep inside her with her name on his puffy lips like a reverent prayer.  The feeling of his warmth inside her and a final tweak of her over-sensitized clit pushed her over the edge one last time, and while it was nothing as intense as the two before it, it was somehow enough to finish the job of draining her to stillness before her passion and fury tore her to pieces. 

They shuddered to a halt together and laid there on the floor, panting in the aftermath, with her slumped atop him, their skin slicked and dripping with sweat.  She felt… empty, all of the emotions she’d been feeling having been poured out into the passionate act. 

He caught his breath first, and picked her up and tucked her into the bed.  As she stared glassily at the sketch of herself on the wall, he gave her a gentle kiss, dried her hair with a towel and braided it as her stomach growled.  Tossing on his shirt and boxers, he went to leave after a murmured assurance that he’d return shortly. 

She continued to stare, feeling so empty and drained, but managed a small nod.  He left, and she kept looking at the strong depiction of herself on the wall, and felt weak and broken. 

He returned a timeless while later, carrying a breakfast tray laden with fresh oatmeal, bread rolls, tea, toast, butter, jams, and soft cheeses, and fed her. 

Her heart broke again as he took care of her, and she reached for him again, needing the assurance that he was there.  That he wouldn’t leave her.  That he loved her. 

And he assured her, in words whispered against her skin and sensual kisses and murmured promises, that there would always be a Hiccup and Astrid.  Always. 

Later, the sweat cooling on their skin once again, they cuddled under his blankets, and she thanked whatever gods were listening for bringing him into her life.

 


	18. Chapter 17: There's Nowhere We Can Hide

**Chapter 17: There's Nowhere We Can Hide**

The next morning as they showered, Hiccup looked at Astrid worriedly.  They’d spent yesterday cuddling and watching movies and working through leftovers for lunch and dinner.  Hiccup had talked a little bit with his father while she’d been napping at one point, the pregnancy fatigue and the aftermath of her emotional whiplash combining to knock her out for over two hours. 

_“How is she?” Stoick asked worriedly as Hiccup came down the stairs._

_Hiccup grimaced and shrugged, remembering the agony in her eyes as they’d coupled in that frenzy.  “She’s asleep, thank the gods.  She… Dad, I’m scared for her.”  He looked down at his hands, and felt the lines of fire across his back that were rubbing up against his shirt.  “Astrid… she’s the strongest person I know.  And… and this just… just_ broke _her.”_

_Ma Kosti looked up from where she was grimly packing away the remnants of Astrid’s clothes into some of those big stackable rubber bins.  “That’s because they’re her parents, Henry.  They can always pull on the heartstrings, because they’re the ones that tied them in the first place.”_

_“And… are you alright?” Stoick asked carefully._

_Hiccup nodded.  “Aside from wanting to take a cricket bat to her dad’s face…”_

_“I’d hold him for you,” Ma Kosti offered cheerfully._

_“…I’m fine.”  Hiccup didn’t mention the mass of darkening love bites and teeth marks and nail marks all over his chest, arms and back; while he’d enjoyed receiving them, he’d also realized_ why _Astrid had marked him so intently.  And that took some of the joy out of it… even as part of him thrilled to her being so possessive.  He just hoped that she’d be willing to do it again, under less fraught circumstances._

_“Well, I need you to report what happened, exactly, before I was there to witness it,” Stoick said.  “While it’s still fresh.”_

_Hiccup nodded, and after a quick recorded interview, he turned to Ma Kosti, who was reverently folding and packing away each torn garment into the bin.  But she shooed him off.  “Go take care of your lady love, Henry.  I can handle this.  She needs you, and you should be there when she wakes up.”_

That had been yesterday.  Now, they were showering and making out under the spray, Astrid holding onto him for dear life.  Under her grip, his skin bore the marks of her handiwork, with overlapping love bites all across his chest and collarbone, while his back was criss-crossed with scabbing scratchmarks. 

And when they’d woken up this morning, she’d reacted with guilt at the sight of them—and it had taken some serious convincing on his part that he was fine with them.  She’d finally believed him after he had told her that he was considering walking out shirtless to display them proudly, maybe after taking a marker and drawing connections between them to write out ‘Property Of Astrid’ on his skin.  She’d accepted that… after he’d started walking to the door bare-chested. 

After they finished showering, they dressed and went downstairs.  Astrid sniffed the air curiously.  “Wait, how did you cook something already?”

“I didn’t,” Hiccup said, knowing what was coming.

They entered the kitchen, and Hiccup went over to the slow cooker on the counter and picked up the lid.  Astrid followed him and took a deep sniff.  “Oh.  What’s that?”

“Something I asked Ma Kosti to put together last night.  Slow-cooked steel-cut oats with apples, ginger, raisins, berries and other fruit.”

They ate; for him, it was a little on the bland side, but Astrid devoured three bowls. 

Then Stoick came in, holding a coffee cup in one hand, and a small stack of papers in the other.  He took a bowl for himself, and came and joined them at the table. 

After they had been eating in silence for a minute or so, Stoick coughed and said, “Lass… I’m sorry that you had to go through that yesterday.”

She looked up at him tiredly from her fourth bowl, and said, in a gravelly voice, “Thank you.”

Stoick shifted a bit uncomfortably, and said, “It… it occurred to me that we… you still have the same problem that you did before.  Aside from those formal outfits, there was really nothing there for you to wear, and they aren’t at all practical for day-to-day wear.  So all you have is what you brought with you.”

She nodded, and Hiccup reached over and took her hand in his.  She squeezed his hand in reply.

Stoick rubbed at his face with one broad hand and asked, “How much would you need in order to get replacements?”

Astrid blinked, visibly taken aback, while Hiccup looked at his father in surprise, but then started to think.  “Well, she needs… socks, underwear, pants, skirts, shirts…”  He leaned back, thinking, still holding Astrid’s hand. 

“A winter coat, hat, gloves, scarf, long underwear, boots, shoes…” she added quietly.  “School-appropriate attire.”  She glanced down.  “Maybe maternity clothes.”

Hiccup twitched.  They still hadn’t had that talk. 

Astrid thought for a solid minute, maybe two, her expression pained, with a furrowed brow and hooded eyes, as Hiccup took out his phone with his free hand and started to search for prices, but was quickly overwhelmed by options.  He had no idea, and was baffled by some of the keywords.  Hel, he didn’t even know what size Astrid was, and that seemed to matter a lot. 

Finally, Astrid said, “I might be able to raid Heather’s closet for some things—and I know that she has some of my stuff anyway that I can get back—but for the stuff that I need… it’ll cost… gah, hundreds of pounds.  Probably a thousand or more, even for the basic stuff.”  She sniffed.  “I’m practically starting from scratch.”

Stoick nodded, and a small smile grew on his face.  “Not as bad as I feared, then.”

“What?” Astrid asked, her voice full of surprise. 

Stoick handed her an unsealed envelope, the small smile growing slightly.  Astrid took it with shaking hands and opened it. 

Hiccup barely managed to repress a whistle at the sight of a stack of hundred-pound banknotes inside, the Kessock Bridge visible across the red and orange bills. 

“That’s twenty-five-hundred pounds,” Stoick said, and rose from his seat as they both stared at him in shock.  He walked behind both of them and patted them on the shoulders.  “That should be enough, I think.  And get yourself something nice.”

“But… but… but…” Astrid stammered. 

“But what?  You need it, we can afford it, and, if it helps, consider this an early Yule present as well.”

“I… I can’t…”

“Oh, yes you can,” Stoick said, still smiling as he walked to the doorway.  “I insist.”  His smile turned into a friendly smirk.  “After all, this is your _home_ now, isn’t it?  And you can’t go around poorly dressed if you’re going to be living here.”

She blinked.

“Oh yes, I didn’t forget what I heard yesterday,” Stoick said cheerfully.  “You shouted at your mother to ‘get out of your _home_.’” 

Hiccup would have been willing to swear under oath that his dad was tearing up as he said that.

“So that’s a housewarming gift and all that.”  He made a pushing motion at her.  “Go.  Get yourself kitted out properly.  Call your friends, make an outing of it.  Reclaim yourself from your father and your mother.”

He left, and Hiccup looked at Astrid, who was sitting there, stunned, a tear slowly tracking down her cheek. 

He reached over and hugged her. 

“Let’s finish up and call Heather and the others, and then go hit the mainland mall?” he suggested. 

Still stunned, she nodded slowly.

“Are you okay?” he asked her gently. 

“I… I don’t know,” she said, still sounding shocked.

#

It wasn’t that simple, of course.  Everyone had plans for the day already, but it wasn’t like they were in a hurry.  They could afford to take their time.  Tomorrow, though, everyone was available for a Saturday afternoon’s romp through the mall on the mainland at Glasgow.  Eret and Dagur were available for driving, and it would be a group outing, with a promised payment of a meal at Hiccup’s house at the end of the day and Stoick would cover the petrol. 

While she’d been organizing that, Ma Kosti had arrived.  So while Astrid had been herding her friends, Hiccup had chatted with Ma Kosti about the planned meal preparation for tomorrow as the two of them mixed vast quantities of butter cookie dough. The two of them ended up coming up with quite the elaborate menu that had his mentor amused and eager to help; he would start the prep, and she would work on finishing it during the afternoon while they were out. 

Now, though, that with her own organizing work done, and unable to stomach any more cookie dough, Astrid kept glancing at the envelope.  Two and a half thousand pounds.  Just like that. 

She was doing her best to keep her thoughts positive, but with all of the mood swings she’d been having, it wasn’t easy. 

But…

She hopped off the breakfast bar stool, startling Hiccup and Ma Kosti from where they were managing a bakery’s worth of cookies, snatched up the envelope, and marched to Stoick’s office.  Knocking on the door, she heard him say, “Come in,” and opened it without any hesitation.

“Yes, Astrid?” Stoick asked politely, looking up from the screen he was studying.  “Is everything all right?”

“I… I…” she stammered.  Now that she was here, her impulse of a moment earlier seemed so very silly.  But she gritted her teeth and said, “Why?”

“Why, what?”

She hefted the envelope.  “Why?”

“I don’t understand,” Stoick said, quirking an eyebrow.

“Why did you give me so much?  Why?  What did I do to earn it?”

Stoick paused, looked her over, and sighed.  “Ah.  You’re thinking that it’s some kind of bribe or payment… especially after what your mother tried to tempt you with.”

That hit.  Was she so transparent? 

She nodded.

Stoick sighed again and rubbed at his eyes.  “Astrid.  It is a gift.  If you were to buy everything that you needed, pack up, and move to one of your friends’ houses while we sort out this mess, I would not hold it over you.”  He stood.  “Come.  This is not a conversation we should be having in here.  In here I am your lawyer,” he said as he came around the desk.  Stepping over the threshold of the office, he said, “Out here, I am your boyfriend’s father… and your concerned host.”  She followed him, and he shut the door. 

Hiccup was standing nearby, looking worried.  He gently came up to her, but when she shook her head, he backed off and stood a few paces away. 

“So, so why did you give it to me?” she demanded. 

Stoick rubbed at his forehead.  “Several reasons.  First, two practical reasons.  Well, three.  First of those is that you need clothing, and the pitiful amount that you currently have is insufficient.  Second, we did request your clothing from your parents, so, if and when this goes to court, they will be able to reply that they engaged in full compliance.  By pointing out that we had to spend that money to outfit you will give a concrete value with which to hammer home the degree of the abuse.”

She grimaced at that.  “So you inflated it specifically because…”

Stoick shook his head.  “No.  And you did say minimum.  But most of those clothes that I saw the rags of weren’t of poor quality, Astrid.  I imagine that their actual aggregate costs were greater than what I gave you.  In fact, when you go shopping, please save the receipts for me.  I’ll be able to use those.  And third, demonstrating to the judge that we can and will support you gives me leverage against them having claims that, since they’re wealthier than we are, we can’t support you properly.”

“Oh.”

“On the other reasons…”  He sighed again, long and deep, the air rushing out of his nose making the ends of his mustache quiver.  “You called this your home.  That makes me your head of household,” he glanced at Hiccup and then back to her, “and effectively your parent.  And I won’t have you going around unsupported.”

“I…” she started to say, but he held up a hand.

“Also…” he sighed again, winced, and reached out a gentle hand to pat her on the shoulder.  “Astrid.  I am not bribing you or paying you to stay with Henry.  The money comes with no strings attached.  But you _are_ Henry’s girlfriend, and while I wish that my first gift to the two of you had less… _horrible_ memories attached to it, it _is_ a gift for you both.  And finally…” his hand on her shoulder gave a comforting squeeze, “I saw a proud, strong, and intelligent young woman reduced to broken tears yesterday.  And while I’m at… at a loss for what to do… this was something that I _could_ do for you to try to help.”  He stepped back and looked her over gently and fondly.  “And I’m sorry that my attempt to offer that support made you even more uncomfortable.” 

She looked down, and a moment later, he was reaching down and lifting her chin up. 

“Is that acceptable to you?” he asked softly.

She nodded.

“Good.  I messed up, and I’m sorry for that.  But I’m glad that you asked.”  He smiled at both of them.  “Now, why don’t you two get back to what you were doing, and I’ll do the same.”

She nodded, and, on impulse, threw a hug around him.

Stoick grinned and patted her on the back before stepping back into his office.

#

Whistling to himself, Hiccup removed the last screw from the laptop case and popped the hard drive free.  Thankfully, it wasn’t a proprietary laptop like a Mac; while he had the screwdrivers needed for one of those, it would have been a giant pain in the ass to get the drive out.

Behind him, on the bed, Astrid had his tablet and was perusing the web—including a few of the sites that he’d used for research on how to please her in bed.  But that was for later.  For the moment, he had a job to do.

After she’d talked with his dad, she’d spotted her school backpack, sitting next to his, and had gone to boot up her laptop.  Just as she’d powered it on, though, Hiccup had suddenly asked her if she’d scrubbed it.  That had ended with her pulling the plug and the battery in a hurry.  And now he was lobotomizing it so that he could give the drive a look.

Popping the drive in the toaster-port, he mounted it to his system and started a malware scan.  Within a minute, the scan started to chirp insistently, and he whistled.

“Hey, Astrid?”

“Yeah?”

He watched the progress bar as it was dotted with flag after red flag.  “I can get your files off of this thing, but this thing is like a nest from one of the Alien movies.”

“That’s the one with giant bug alien, right?”

“Okay, we’re watching that later,” he said.  “But I was more referencing that nuking this from orbit might be the better option.  Damn, it’s just _infested._ ”  He started to check specs on the laptop model so that he could make a virtual machine of it to boot in a sandbox. 

As the malware detector continued to ping as he worked, he started to check on the specifics, and whistled, impressed—in a sort of ‘gods, what an utter mess’ sort of attitude.  “I don’t think your dad missed a trick on this thing.  Webcam hijacker, activity LED override, browser hijacker, man-in-the-middle authentication seizure, keylogger… I’m wondering if he stuck solely to software, or if there’s a hardware snitch-box somewhere in the case?”

“Could you find it?”

“Maybe… if it’s aftermarket and not integrated,” he said, scowling as the malware detector continued to chirp.  “We’re talking a fair bit of work, and it would be nearly impossible to prove that there _isn’t_ malware in here.”  He glanced at the progress bar.  “Of course, I think there might be more spyware in this drive than your files, going by volume.”

“No wonder it always felt laggy,” she said tartly. 

“Well, there are ways to check.  But this’ll take some time,” he said.  “In fact, I want to queue up a deeper scan to go after this surface scan.”  Then an idea hit him.  “Hey, Ast?”

“Yeah?”

“How do you feel about trolling your dad?”

“What did you have in mind?”

He explained his idea to her.

By the end of it, she was rolling in laughter, her eyes streaming tears, and she had some suggestions of her own to refine it.  They discussed it for several minutes, cackling as they bounced ideas back and forth, and came to a final decision.

Then, as he set things up, she grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the bed, dragging him on top of her. 

They made out in a tangle of limbs, kissing each other wildly as hands groped under shirts, doing their best to be mindful of the tender spots of each others’ bruises.  Her neck was still sore, but the meds were doing their job, and the only bad bruise on him that still hurt was the one on his gut, although the scratch-marks on his back stung quite a bit… not that he minded.  If anything, he was treasuring them.

They ended up snuggling together, still fully clothed, laughing and smirking together as they speculated how her father would react to their prank. 

Finally, the scan chimed that it was done, and, reluctantly, Hiccup pulled himself free from Astrid’s grasp and went over to the desk.

He popped on a little cheerful music from Imagine Dragons as he worked, and he and Astrid sang along.

“… _but now you can’t tell the false from the real…”_

#

That evening, at dinner, Gobber, Ma Kosti and Stoick stared at the two of them as they described what she and Hiccup had done to her father. 

“—so, when we realized just how compromised the whole thing was, I booted it in a VM and fed it a video of me and Astrid kissing on the bed… for about ten or twenty seconds, before cutting to a Rick Roll.”

Stoick blinked.  “Isn’t that that obnoxious video…?”

“With Rick Astley?  Yeah,” Hiccup said, grinning madly.

Astrid started to hum and sing, “ _Never gonna give you up…”_

“And after a few seconds of that… then, then… well, it took us a few takes,” Hiccup said, and Astrid rolled her eyes and elbowed him. 

“A _few?_   You couldn’t keep a straight face, Hiccup!” she chided him with a grin.   Of course, she hadn’t helped, as she’d made silly faces at him from out of view of the webcam.

“Okay, a lot, a lot of takes!  But it was worth it!”

“Oh, Odin… what did you send him?” Stoick asked, as Gobber was desperately trying to keep himself from laughing, and Ma Kosti had just given up entirely and was giggling into her roast and mashed potatoes across the table. 

Astrid glanced at Hiccup, and then turned back to Stoick.  “Oh, nothing much.  Just a short video…” she trailed off significantly.

Hiccup, smirking, picked up from her cue, “‘Mr. Hofferson, thank you so much for returning Astrid’s laptop intact.  However, while I was examining it for her, I found a large amount of spyware in the OS.  I’ll be cleaning that out soon, don’t worry!  Your daughter’s computer security is in good hands!’”

Stoick burst out laughing and Astrid made calming motions.  “Wait!  It gets better!”  She nudged Hiccup to continue, and he made a smirking bow over his plate and did so.

“‘And, despite temptation, I want you to know that you have my word that I did not add in any spyware, malware, viruses, worms, trojans, or other such programs onto this package,’” Hiccup said with relish. 

“But you did, didn’t you?” Gobber asked eagerly. 

Astrid shook her head, grinning.  “We talked it over, and if Hiccup did compromise his system that way, it wouldn’t look good—especially since it would open us up to accusations of corporate espionage or insider trading.”  She smirked.  “No… Hiccup told my father the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”

Gobber blinked, and shared a glance with his sister and with Stoick.  And wide smiles grew on their faces. 

“He’s going to assume that Henry was lying,” Stoick said.  “That there _was_ a virus or something in that package.  Otherwise, why mention it?”

“Yep!” Astrid said, grinning so widely that her cheeks were hurting. 

“Oh, by Kvasir’s blood,” Gobber said, trying hard not to laugh.  “Can you imagine what he’ll do to his poor computer trying to find a virus that doesn’t exist?”

Hiccup leaned back in his chair, looking smug.  Lacing his fingers behind his head with a self-satisfied look that made Astrid want to drag him up to bed and ride him, he said, “A deep scan can take hours on a large enough hard drive.  Virus scan.  Malware scan. Scandisk.  Registry checker…  Call it a day apiece.  And when it comes up negative…” he trailed off significantly.

“‘Maybe I just didn’t find it.  Maybe his program subverted my scanner,’” Astrid said in mocking impression of her father.  “And then he runs it all again.  And again.”

“I’m betting that he’ll have his entire system shipped off to be checked by professionals, or even buys a new one,” Hiccup said with relish.  “And if he brings it up in court, what will he say?  That he installed spyware on his daughter’s laptop?  Or that he gave a spyware-infested laptop to a pair of sixteen-year-olds?”

Stoick smirked, which made Astrid feel warm all the way down to her toes.  “Oh, I hope that he does.”

“But I told the truth—and I’m looking forward to seeing what happens next there.”

“Well done, Henry,” Stoick said, lifting his mug of beer.  “You did good, son!”

Hiccup flushed and looked down. 

Astrid wrapped her fingers around his hand and gave a supportive squeeze. 

#

The next day, fingers streaming through the rushing air, Hiccup waved across the highway to Dagur’s car, and Heather waved back. 

He and Astrid were seated in the backseat of Eret’s practical Volkswagen Golf, Cami up front, while Heather, Ruffnut and Merida were riding in the Oswaldsson’s Nissan SUV, which Dagur was driving.  They were heading in from Berk in the islands, through the Highlands and down to one of the Glasgow malls. 

In the seat next to him, Astrid was plotting out a battle plan on his tablet in collaboration with the others, listing out what she needed, marking which stores had sales, and even assigning specific items for people to fetch for her while she went on a dressing room marathon for maximum efficiency.  Heather had even been ‘volunteered’ as a body double to try on clothes as needed, as she and Astrid were very close in size—at least for now. 

Heather had humorously accepted the assignment with the caveat of wanting permission to raid Astrid’s new closet as needed… and, when Dagur had been out of earshot, asking Astrid and Hiccup if they’d be willing to buy and stash condoms for her and Justin.  They’d said yes, of course. 

Dagur and Eret, for their part, were mostly there for transport; Stoick was covering the cost of the petrol for both of them, so they were basically treating this as a chance to hit the mainland mall and do some shopping, plus getting to stuff their faces with food when they got back.  Ma Kosti was practically giggling at the chance to lay out a spread sufficient for nearly a dozen people—eight of them teenagers—that could be served fresh from the kitchen. 

They arrived without incident, but as the girls went off, Dagur and Eret buttonholed Hiccup at the doors.

“Hey guys…” he said weakly, looking at the pair of them standing there, their arms crossed, fighting a small sense of panic, and quickly trying to deflect.  “Eret, how’s the ankle?”

“Doing better,” he said.  “Thanks for asking.”

“And speaking of asking,” Dagur said, his eyebrows furrowed, “what is going on?”

Hiccup was rescued by Astrid’s return.  “Guys.  You wanted to hit the sporting goods store, remember?  Hands off my boyfriend, I need his opinions on stuff,” she said, and grabbed Hiccup by the wrist and dragged him off. 

Once they were out of sight, he gave a sigh of relief.  “Thanks for the save,” he said to her as she pulled him along towards the M&Co. 

“Not a problem.  And I do need you for some things,” she said as they entered the store.  The other girls had dispersed already; Hiccup could see Merida’s distinctive red curls bobbing along one of the aisles nearby.  

“Such as?” he asked.

She smirked.  “Sleepwear.”

Hiccup groaned and said, “I know that you’re feeling exhibitionist, but I’m going to put my foot down and say no sex in the dressing rooms.”

“Don’t put your foot down,” she said, and before he could say anything, she added mischievously, “You might forget it.”

He shot her a betrayed look, and she responded with a sunny smile that made him laugh.  It was so good to see her smiling and joking after the emotional gut punch from the other day. 

“Exercise clothes?” she suggested innocently as they made their way into the store.  “You know how important it is to stay _limb_ er.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.  “You’re really _toe_ ing the line, Ast.”

She smirked, and then Ruffnut came up, carrying an armload of t-shirts.  The next few hours passed in a colorful blur, as Hiccup got treated to a one-man fashion show—albeit a very pragmatic and rushed one.  The girls were working through one category at a time, with Astrid and Heather trying on clothes, and Merida, Cami and Ruffnut supplying them.  First blouses and shirts, followed by pants, jeans and skirts…

The socks, tights and panties were bought in packs, but he had to swallow hard at the sight of Astrid trying on new bras—and looked away when Heather modeled some of them for Astrid. 

Then Ruffnut poked him in the side.  “Why don’t you go handle that shopping you wanted to do?”

“Wuh… Why?”

She smirked.  “Because we’re about to move onto shoes.  And you’ve already proved that you’re a devoted boyfriend by sticking around this long.”

Hiccup caught Astrid’s look of amusement.  Then she said, “And while your opinions have been great, Hiccup, this is a good time for you to head off.  We’re going to handle the winter stuff next.”

He nodded and stammered, “O-okay.”  And, to be honest, he did have some things to get for them. 

But, as he exited the M&Co and made his way to the CeX, Eret and Dagur fell in step next to him.  He glanced at them and they smoothly put their arms across his shoulders, making him groan.  “What?”

“We wanted to talk to you,” Eret said seriously.

“Alone,” Dagur said intently.

“We don’t want to hurt you, promise,” Eret said.

“But we’ve got some questions,” Dagur added.

Hiccup sighed.  “Fine.  But I’ve got some shopping to do, and you don’t have to treat me like a prisoner.  Okay?”

They released him and they entered the second-hand electronics store.  Hiccup made a beeline for the computer parts towards the back of the store, and Dagur and Eret followed him.  “If you’re here, help,” he said, and started to browse the shelves.

“Alright,” Eret said.  “What are we looking for?”

“Harddrives, plus spare game controllers, and video games from the last few years that allow co-op,” Hiccup said with a smile.  “LAN parties, anyone?”

Both Dagur and Eret perked up at that.  Then Dagur sobered. 

“So… Haddock… Henry,” he began. 

“Yeah?”

“What’s going on?”

Hiccup huffed.  “We already explained—”

“Yeah, her father’s an asshole, I know that much.  I got the hairy eyeball anytime I bumped into him at my place or theirs,” Dagur said flatly.  “And now she’s with you… and, unless I’m a total idiot, she’s staying at _your_ place.” 

“How do you figure that?”

“Because otherwise, she’d be at _my_ place, using the spare bedroom next to Heather’s, like she did the last time her father threw a tantrum at her,” Dagur stated bluntly.  “But she’s not.  And we picked you both up from _your_ place.”  He stroked his patchy red beard.  “I might be bug-ass crazy, but I’m _not_ an idiot.”

Eret leaned against the shelving unit nonchalantly.  “And now we’re here… and she’s buying a whole new wardrobe.  That’s pretty much a declaration of ‘I’m not going home again’.”

Hiccup swallowed and nodded.  “So what’s the question?”

“What’s going on?” Eret repeated with an exasperated look.  “Look, Haddock, you’re not my friend.  Neither is Astrid.  But I still think that you’re both decent people and I like you.  But I also don’t like being a mushroom.”

“Well, you know me,” Hiccup said charmingly.  “I’m not a fun-gi.”

The other two shared an unamused glance, and then Dagur said, “Funny.  But don’t think that the humor is going to grow on us.” 

Hiccup snorted, and Eret gave Dagur an exasperated look and muttered something about being surrounded by wiseasses. 

They just looked at each other for a moment, and then Hiccup got back to perusing the shelves. 

Then Dagur said abruptly, “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Hiccup whuffed out a breath like he’d been punched, felt his pulse start to hammer in panic, jerked his head around to look at Dagur, and stammered out, “Wh-what makes you say that?”

“First, if she was just dating you, then why did he come by my house?  Why not go to yours to threaten you instead?  Second, he was much more upset than I’d ever seen him, so it had to be big.  Third…”  Dagur quirked an eyebrow, “ _you haven’t denied it.”_   He leaned forward and poked Hiccup in the breastbone, right on one of Astrid’s love bites, making him wince.  “Instead, you basically went ‘How did you figure it out?’”

Hiccup swallowed as Eret gave him an astonished look. 

“Holy…” Eret breathed out as Hiccup gulped down air.  “That makes so much sense.”

Hiccup slumped and bowed his head.  “Yeah.”

Dagur punched him, and, startled, Hiccup landed on the floor with a wheeze.

“What!?” he gasped out as Eret held Dagur back. 

“You idiot—!” Dagur growled at him.  “You thrice-damned—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Eret said, wrestling with Dagur.  “We promised not to hurt him, remember!?”

“…right,” Dagur said, and calmed himself, like flipping a switch.  Then he reached down and hauled Hiccup up off the floor, and brushed him off.  “You okay?”

Hiccup stepped back, giving Dagur an intimidated look.  “…Yeah.  At least you didn’t punch me in the same spot as Mister Hofferson and Snotlout did…”

“Sorry,” Dagur said, and he did sound apologetic.  “So, what, you knocked her up, and now she’s hiding out with you?  Doesn’t that sound just a little bit _unfair_ to you?”

Hiccup glared at him and then looked down.  “Yeah, it does.  Especially since my dad gave her the money for today’s shopping.”

“Ouch,” Eret said with a grimace. 

“But… well…”  Hiccup looked up at the two of them.  “When we get back to my house, we’ll show you what her father did to her stuff, okay?  And then you can tell me that I’m treating her poorly.”  He looked down.  “And… she told me that she loves me.”

Eret and Dagur shared another look.  Then Dagur said, “And do you love her?”

Hiccup nodded resolutely.  “Yes.”  Then an impulse hit him, and he ran with it. “You know what?  Fuck it.  Dagur, if you think that I don’t—that I’m just taking advantage of her… hit me.”  Hiccup drew himself up to his full posture and looked Dagur straight in the eye.  “Free shot.  If you think that I’m going to hurt her, hurt _me_.”

Dagur looked him over with a coy smirk, and drew back a fist…

And then yanked Hiccup into a backslapping embrace.  “All right!”

Hiccup grunted as Dagur’s enthusiastic pounding on his back knocked some of the air from his lungs.  “‘All right…’ what?”

“You’re not a jackass!” Dagur said cheerfully, and let go of him. 

“I try… not to be…” Hiccup said, trying to get air back into his lungs. 

Eret sighed.  “Whooo boy.  So… now what, Haddock?”

“Now, I get what I need from here, you two go back and finish what shopping you had in mind, I go rejoin the girls, and eventually we all go back to my house for dinner,” Hiccup said tartly.  “And you both keep the juicy gossip to yourselves, or I’ll make you pay for hurting Astrid, got it?”

They both nodded in unison, and then blinked. 

“Damn, Haddock, you’ve got a mouth like Coach when you get pissed,” Eret said approvingly. 

Dagur snorted.  “More like a drill sergeant.”

Hiccup resisted making a Weirding Way joke; he doubted that either of them would get the reference.  He just started at them and then said, “We good?”

Eret nodded.  “No worries from me.  Besides, I want to try this ‘amazing food’ that Heather mentioned.”

Dagur nodded in wry agreement. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes and turned back to the shelves; he needed a hard drive or two to clone Astrid’s old drive for experimental purposes. 

And there were a few other things that they needed—and now that the cat was out of the bag, he might as well ask. 

“So, one other thing.  How do you two feel about extending this trip over to Edinburgh today?”

Eret and Dagur shared a look.  “What for?” Eret asked. 

Hiccup grinned and started to explain the plans that he’d made with his dad. 

 


	19. Chapter 18: No Matter What We Breed

**Chapter 18: No Matter What We Breed**

With Hiccup off doing his own shopping—and getting stuff for them to play with—Astrid motioned her friends over and brought out her phone.  “Okay, this is the drawing,” she said, showing them the close-up pic of Hiccup’s shieldmaiden sketch.  “What do you think?  Can we get what we need in the next two weeks?”

Merida looked at the image and whistled.  “I _like_ it.  Badass shieldmaiden, none of this ‘pampered princess in a tightly-tailored dress and wimple’ stuff that you usually see.  He drew this for you?”

She nodded.  It was close enough to the absolute truth as to work.

“Then we’ll find what we need to make it,” Heather said, and there were nods all around. “I think that I saw some knit sweaters up here that we can use for that top—you want it in blue, right, Ast?”

She nodded again, grinning.  She loved her friends so much.

Ruff peered in.  “That skirt is going to be a pain, with those spikes and those skulls, but I think that my cousin Lars can make it.”  She shrugged.  “It’ll cost for being a rush job, though, even with him being family.”

Heather snorted.  “I’ll cover the cost.  Hel, I’ve got my own Viking-maiden costume for Samhain.  We could go as a group.”

Merida laughed.  “I’ve still got that medieval princess getup from the last Jorvik Viking Festival.  I’ll join you.”

“Minus the wimple, right?” Ruff asked with a smirk.

Merida gave a dramatic shudder that made her hair cascade in a wave and made them all laugh.  Then they took another closer look at the picture.  “I think that we can make the boots using uggs as a base…”

They discussed the finer details of how to make the costume for a minute, and then Cami chortled in amusement.

“What?”

 “I’m just imagining your dad meeting Henry, Merida.”

Astrid took a moment to appreciate that vision.  Fergus Dunbroch would definitely have a lot to bond with her boyfriend over—commiseration on stump-sores and prosthetic legs, if nothing else, plus a love of history. 

Then she pictured introducing Fergus and Stoick.  It would be a unique experience for Merida’s father, meeting a man taller than him. 

Cami interrupted that moment of imagination, though, as she added innocently, “So, Astrid… how easily should we design this to be easily removable… or, should I say have certain _bits_ easily removable?”

Astrid met her friend’s gaze with a raised eyebrow, and Cami grinned.  “It’s a legitimate question!” 

Astrid continued to glare at her, even as everyone looked at her, completely deadpan.  They had no illusions.

Then Ruffnut coughed.  “So… _are_ you planning on banging Hiccup while wearing it?” she asked as innocently as she could manage—that being, ‘not very’. 

Her lips drawn together in a desperate attempt at control, Astrid shook helplessly with repressed laughter and nodded once, all the while giving Ruffnut a death-glare. 

Cami and Ruff low-fived each other, and Heather rolled her eyes.  “Well, that’ll change some bits in the design…”

They connived for a few minutes, first on her outfit, and then on one for Hiccup… with Cami making coy suggestions about ‘stain-resistant fabrics’ and ‘quick release snaps,’ and grinning each time Astrid gave her an unamused look.  From there, they broke apart to continue with the shopping.  So far, they’d gotten about two-thirds of what she needed.  She still needed stuff acceptable for school—although there was the hope that her uniforms were still intact back at her parents’ place—and winter clothes, makeup, and a purse, along with other miscellanea that would be nice but were not essential, like exercise clothes.

Hiccup eventually returned, looking pleased and slightly bewildered, and she gave him a glance as she worked her way through the ‘to try on’ pile.  “What?”

“Um… Dagur figured it out,” he said bluntly. 

Her eyes widened.  “Oh shit…”  Then she looked him over.  “Did he hurt you?”

He shook his head.  “One punch, but it wasn’t a hard one.  But he—and Eret—both promised to keep their mouth shut.”

She groaned; she trusted Eret, but Dagur’s self-control was… erratic.  “Well, I guess we’ll see what happens there.”  It wasn’t like they had much _choice,_ after all.

He shrugged.  “So, how goes the garment hunting?”

She gave him a flat look, but let the change of topic go.  “Still need a bunch of things,” she said, and pulled him off to the changing rooms.  She slipped inside the booth that had become hers over the last few hours and grabbed the stack of accepted clothes inside.  Hiccup whistled when she emerged from the curtain.  “That’s impressive.”

“Yeah, you never really think about how bulky clothes are until you’re packing or needing to buy lots of it,” she said, depositing the meter-tall stack on the bench next to him.  “And we’ve already bought a few loads and taken them out to the cars.”  She looked at him and a question that had been percolating in her head fell out.  “Where are we going to put it all?”  She only had the one drawer in his wardrobe, and his room was already packed full of his own furniture…

But to her surprise, Hiccup smiled at her.  “I had a talk with Dad last night, after dinner, while you were in the bathroom.”

“And…?” she asked. 

Hiccup pulled out his wallet and presented his emergency credit card.  “We talked, we both raised the same point that you just did and…” He trailed off dramatically.

Astrid huffed, sending her fringe swaying.  _“And?_ ” she asked impatiently.

“And now we have another thousand pounds earmarked for furniture,”  Hiccup said with relish.

She blinked in surprise.  “But…”

“I was thinking that we could got to the IKEA in Edinburgh, or just shop online.”

“But…”

“Where would we put it?  Dad says that he’s okay with me moving my bookcases out onto the landing, and we could take apart the old bed and store it in the basement.” 

“But…” she stammered again. 

He stood up from the bench and took her by the hands.  “Dad said, and I quote… ‘The two of yeh can’t keep sleeping on that narrow little bed!  And she needs a place to put her stuff!’”  Hiccup leaned in and whispered jokingly, in a tone like he was asking her on a date, “So… Astrid… would you assemble furniture with me?”  His voice sobered, and he asked, looking into her eyes, his own filled with love, “Astrid… Will… will you build a home with me?  Even if it’s from an IKEA flatpack?”

She stared at him, her jaw hanging open slightly, and then nodded, dumbfounded.  It had been a growing worry for her all afternoon… and then Hiccup and Stoick had again shown that… that she was one of their family, regardless of what the law might say.

“Next stop after we’re done here?” he asked quietly.

She nodded again mutely, stunned at how quickly that had been resolved—and feeling her heart melting in her chest. 

He was visibly basking in her shock, his teeth visible in a grin that had the skin around his eyes crinkling.  “And since Dagur and Eret already know about us… and where you’re staying, there’s no harm to them coming along,” he added.  “I already asked them if they’d be willing to make the drive if you said you wanted to go, and they said that it was okay with them.”

She blinked and took a deep breath… and nodded. 

He grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her, the smugness practically dripping and making a puddle on the floor of sheer preening. 

She rolled her eyes at him and fondly swatted him with one hand.  “You are incredible,” she said.  “Just… unbelievable.”  She reached up, ran her hands through his hair, and pulled him down for a kiss.  They stood there for a long moment as the gesture that he’d just extended to her ran through her thoughts.  Acceptance, love, support, to the point where he was willing to take apart the one place in the world that was _his_ , in a way that even her old room hadn’t been _hers_ , just so that she would have a place to _be_. 

She would have to make sure that at least one of his bookcases stayed in there… even as it became _their_ place.

In this moment, she knew that, when it came time for him to ask _that_ question… she would answer yes.

She broke the kiss, panting for air, and gave him a significant tug on his sleeve towards the small cubby where she’d been trying on clothes all afternoon.  Her friends weren’t here, the store itself was pretty quiet, and she was feeling both pervy and thankful, and wanting to show him both.

He blinked, confused, and she tugged again.

Then his eyes widened.  “Ast, no!  Not here!”

“But why not?  There’s nobody around—”

“ _Astrid,_ ” he hissed through clenched teeth.  “No.  _Please._   I… I just don’t want to, not here, not even if there’s ‘ _nobody around._ ’”

She blinked at the iron tone in his voice, and then nodded.  “Okay.  I’m… I’m sorry.”

He reached over and hugged her, his chin on her shoulder.  “Tonight, okay?  We’ll break in the new bed.  Promise.  But I’m not comfortable—”

“Ast, look what I foooou _n!_ —Oh, _hi_ , Hiccup,” Heather’s voice came from behind her.  They gently broke apart, his hand still around her waist, one of hers wrapped around his back, and she turned to see Heather, a mischievous look plastered on her face, holding something behind her back. 

“Did I interrupt anything?” Heather asked, smirking very slightly.  “I could go off and keep hunting.”

They both shook their heads.  Astrid was feeling ill at the realization that she’d pushed Hiccup’s boundaries… and he’d pushed back, and firmly.  But if he hadn’t… she would have done something that would have hurt him.  And that was even after he’d objected to it when they’d first gotten here. 

“What did you find?” she asked.

Heather proudly held up a pair of knit sweaters, one red and one blue.  Astrid stared… and then grinned when she realized what they were for. 

Hiccup was giving them odd looks, but then shrugged.  He was probably so numbed to new clothing by now that he didn’t realize the significance of what Heather was holding up.

And that was fine with her.  Better for it to remain a surprise. 

Then he had a thoughtful look of his own that made her worry for her surprise, turned to her, and gave her a casual peck on the cheek.  “Just remembered something.  Back in a bit?”

She nodded, feeling the imprint of his lips on her skin like a brand—and the way that Heather was grinning at her wasn’t helping. 

Hiccup vanished into the depths of the store and Heather immediately turned to her.  “Dear gods.  _Wow_.  I would say get a room, but you’ve already got one!”

“What?”

Heather rolled her eyes.  “The amazing thing about your relationship with him is that you got away with hiding it for so long.  Seriously, I’m glad I came back when I did, or I might have found you two—”

“Save it, Heather,” Astrid said curtly, remembering how Heather had nearly come back to exactly _that—_ and _would_ have, if not for Hiccup enforcing his boundaries. 

Heather rolled her eyes and brought over the sweaters.  “So, these are good for what you have in mind, because, well, look.”  She pointed to the sleeve seams.  “We could undo these here, and remove the sleeves without hurting the structure of the rest of the sweater…”

Astrid followed along, nodding, and then Merida returned with another armful of clothes for her to try on.  While she was working at going through the exercise clothes Merida had found, Hiccup returned, with what looked like a black robe draped over his arm. 

Grinning, he held it out to her.  “Figured that you’d need one of your own.”

She rolled her eyes at him with a matching grin and said, “But I _like_ stealing yours!”

Merida gave them an assessing look, and Astrid proceeded to ostentatiously wrap her arm around around Hiccup’s shoulder… and shifted his shirt’s collar slightly to show one of the many _many_ love bites that littered his skin.

Quirking a red-haired eyebrow, Merida started to chuckle.  “No harm in looking, right?”

“So long as looking is all!” Astrid called back cheerfully.

Hiccup gave her a deadpan look, and then looked to Merida.  “Sorry, but I’ve been branded.  See?” He pulled back his collar to show even more love bites around his neck, and Merida blinked and started to chortle. 

Astrid rolled her eyes, and then Hiccup waggled those big bushy eyebrows above his glasses.  “Want to see?” he asked the laughing redhead, and made an exaggerated motion towards the hem of his shirt with his free hand.

Merida turned and watched, as Astrid rolled her eyes.  “Someone’s proud,” she said with a fond grin. 

Hiccup shrugged, and handed her the robe.  “Yep.  What better way to advertise that I’m all yours?”

Merida waggled her eyebrows.  “Leaving them above the collar?” she suggested with a smirk.

Astrid smirked back.  “I probably will at some point before we head back to school.”

“Oooh.  That’ll be entertaining,” her friend said, her smirk growing wider. 

Hiccup shrugged.  “I look forward to seeing their reactions.”  Then he turned to Astrid.  “So… what do you think?” he asked, motioning to the robe.

With a smile, she stepped back from him and went to put it on.  It was a plain black robe, which confused her for a moment, having expected something more _geeky_ from her lover, but she found the sleeves and shrugged it on.  It was soft and cozy, and she instantly fell in love with it… and then Merida started to laugh again. 

“What?”

“On the back!” her friend wheezed between giggles.

Astrid turned so that she could look at her back in the nearby mirror—and then feinted a jab at Hiccup, who dodged. 

“All yours!” he said cheerfully. 

She growled humorously, but there was no heat in it.  Not with the giant smile on her face at the sight of the giant seal of nobility on the back, subtitled with elaborate script done out in gold thread reading, _Mi’Lady._

#

Hours later, Hiccup grinned as Eret and Dagur helped carry in the various packages; between the eight teens and Ma Kosti, unloading of the two cars was going quickly—and soundtracked to the sound of hungry teens smelling delicious food.  Ostentatious groans of ‘Oh, gods, I’m _so_ hungry…’ and ‘it smells _soooo_ good…’ overlapped with the rustle of the store bags. 

Hiccup was spared that torment, though; as the bags of clothes were carried in and placed in the entry hall and living room, he was unstrapping the IKEA flatpacks from the Oswaldsson SUV roof rack.  They’d gotten a simple Tarva bedframe, a Brimnes wardrobe, and the best foam mattress that they could afford with the remaining money, which was rolled in a tight tube; he was looking forward to watching that decompress, just for the geek factor of it. 

But he and Astrid would be assembling the bed tomorrow, as the mattress would take a day to decompress fully… and Astrid had suggested to him on the drive back, in a conspiratorial whisper, that they give his old bed a fond and proper farewell.  But the wardrobe was probably going to be assembled tonight, or maybe first tomorrow, depending on how they felt. 

Within about ten minutes, the cars were unloaded, and the first load of Astrid’s new clothes were in the wash.  With nothing else holding them back, he and Astrid, acting as the hosts, unleashed her friends from their duty—and they in turn proceeded to fall upon Ma Kosti’s prepared spread like wolves on a flock of sheep.  His mentor had amused herself, that was for sure; there were crisped and steaming vegetables, a beef stir-fry, several baguettes still warm from the oven for sub sandwiches along with several trays of fixings, several birds worth of American-style fried chicken—Merida and Ruffnut were already dueling with some drumsticks—and a scent of chocolate on the air that hinted at dessert. 

In the doorway to the dining room, Eret’s jaw was hanging open at the sight of the spread.  He held still long enough that Heather jokingly lobbed a broccoli floret at his mouth.  She hit his nose instead, and he blinked. 

“What’s up, Eret?” Hiccup asked.

“What, did you get this catered or something?” he asked, taking a plate and starting to pile it high with meat and veggies. 

Hiccup grinned.  “No…  Not technically.”

“What, called in a favor?”

Astrid said from where she was spooning stir-fry into a bowl, “Ma Kosti helped raise Hiccup; she’s an old family friend, and loves to cook.  She was practically rubbing her hands together when we told her how many people we had to feed tonight.”

The matronly woman’s voice called out from the kitchen, “What do you mean ‘practically’!?”

Hiccup called back, “If they heard your evil laugh, they’d all be wondering where the witch’s cauldron is!”

Ma Kosti cackled, and Dagur dramatically glanced around in affected panic.  “She’s gonna eat me!” he called, and they all laughed. 

Eret’s plate was, by this point, a testament to the ambition of a teenager’s stomach capacity, plus the structural integrity offered by the crust of deep-fried chicken against sliding effects.  Hiccup laughed as the big guy delicately plucked some of the choicer bits from the sandwich section—onions, tomato slices, lettuce, a few pickles, some peppers, a slice of gouda, and a fresh slab of steaming roast beef—and plopped them on top of the pile before tossing a hand-sized slice of the baguette to finish it off.

“You know that you _can_ get seconds, right?” Hiccup teased. 

“With this crowd?  Yeah, right,” Eret said.  “And this looks awesome.”  He put the plate down and started to assemble the sandwich. 

Nearby, Ruffnut was inhaling the drumstick like a good Norse barbarian, and grinned.  “This doesn’t taste like KFC!”

“That’s because it isn’t,” Hiccup said, grinning in reply, and nodded towards the kitchen. 

Ruffnut glanced in that direction, and then her grin grew wider.  “Wait, it’s fresh?”

Ma Kosti came in, aproned and carrying a steaming fresh tray of grilled teriyaki beef skewers and fried chicken fingers.  “No.  This is fresher.”

Hiccup snorted. “By ten minutes!”

Dagur stared at the platter and snagged a skewer before Ma Kosti even placed it on the table, and then ate the whole thing like he was a sword-swallower. 

“Delicious!” he said through the mouthful of steaming spiced beef, the cleaned skewer in one hand. 

Ma Kosti grinned at him.  “Flatterer!”

“No, it is!” he insisted, and then insistently handed another skewer to Heather.  “Try it!”

Heather laughed and took a nibble, and then took a bigger bite.

Ruffnut coyly commented, “Hey, Eret, doesn’t it bother you to see her eating meat like that?”

Hiccup gave Ruffnut an incredulous look as he loaded up his own plate.  Meanwhile Heather just mutely flipped Ruffnut off with her free hand, making the blond break out in peals of laughter. 

  Eret, having assembled his sandwich, pointedly looked at Ruff, took the blunt end of the baguette, and stuffed it into his mouth, tip first, and took a huge bite.  “You were saying?” he asked through the mouthful.

Everyone burst out laughing, and Ruffnut, already chortling, was turning bright red as she tried to calm herself. 

After that, there was several minutes of people wandering around and eating.  Merida, Cami and Ruff went to the lounge to eat, while Hiccup, Astrid and Eret wandered into the kitchen and took seats at the breakfast bar, while Heather and Dagur seemed to be egging each other on at the spread in the dining room. 

Eret glanced around the kitchen as he took another bite of his sandwich.  Ma Kosti was whipping up a storm, and Hiccup watched as she worked.  He had a moment of nostalgia so intense that it almost hurt, remembering himself years earlier, sitting at this same breakfast bar, watching her putter around, and getting fed. 

He hoped that Astrid would have similar feelings into the future.  He had a moment of picturing them here, the two of them together…

An image came to mind, of several months from now, Astrid visibly pregnant and sitting in that chair, him bustling around and cooking for her.  And it was so vivid that he jumped when she touched his arm and reminded him to eat. 

Eret finished his sandwich and started on the chicken.  “So, Henry,” he asked, polishing off the first drumstick in a manner that made Hiccup think of a cow being stripped by piranha, “what’s the plan?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, you promised to show us what her da did.  But let’s say I believe you.  What’s the plan, and can I help?”

Hiccup blinked.  “Why would you want to help?”

Eret shrugged.  “I don’t like bullies.  And Dagur is my friend, and he wants to help, so I’ll probably end up getting dragged in regardless.”

Hiccup and Astrid shared looks.  Then Hiccup said, “At this point, the plan is basically keep him from dragging her back home and protect her here.”

Eret nodded, and placed the cleaned bone on his plate.  “Sounds good!”  He then looked at the two of them.  “So… umm… I don’t want to be an ass…”

Astrid gave him a flat look.  “But you want to ask something personal.  So, is it our sex life, the pregnancy, or my parents?”

Eret grimaced and said, “Given that you know about my sex life via Heather, I’m _almost_ tempted to ask…” he took another hefty bite of his chicken, “but not now.”

“Well, for the other two, no, we haven’t decided yet.  And my parents are dicks who think that money makes up for decency,” Astrid said tartly.  She took an angry bite of her sandwich, and said through the mouthful, “And I’m not just saying that.  Not when my father called you a…”  she grimaced and visibly bit down on the word. 

Eret’s demeanor turned chilly.  “I see.  Well, not the first time I’ve run into that.  And can’t say that I’m surprised.  But thank you for not repeating it,” he said, and took an angry bite of his chicken.

Hiccup nodded.  “If it helps at all, they’re equal opportunity bigots.  Mrs. Hofferson called me a cripple while I was standing right _there_ and implied that Astrid must be a lesbian, because I’m just so _effete_.”  He motioned to himself mockingly.  “All of this raw Vikingness just didn’t count for her.”

Astrid snorted.  “Well, as I told her, he’s man enough for me,” she said with glee.

Eret tried to laugh and choked on his mouthful, and Hiccup thumped him on the back. 

Once his airway was clear, Eret grinned.  “So… are… are you two… _good?_ ”

Hiccup frowned at him, but Astrid nodded.  “Yeah, Eret, we’re _good.”_

He grinned at both of them.  “Glad to hear it.  After, well, after me and Heather blew up our relationship and damn near destroyed our friendship… it’s good to see that you’re doing okay.”

Astrid nodded.  “What happened with you two is that you were both trying to be on top, all the time.”  She slung an arm around Hiccup’s shoulders possessively.  “We take turns.”

Hiccup flushed, and Eret gave him a considering look.  “No shit?”

“Nope.  It’s all about trust,” Astrid said, and Hiccup nodded in agreement.  “So, yeah… we’re _good._   Because we trust each other.”

“And we listen…” Hiccup said with a fond smile at Astrid.

“And we don’t have be strong all the time.  Not when we can lean on each other,” Astrid said with a smile, and then gently elbowed Hiccup.  “Even when the other person is being stubborn and refuses to accept the offer to share the pain meds.”

“Hey, those are safe for you to use!” Hiccup protested.  “You might need them later!”

“So then I’ll get more later!” Astrid rebutted with a grin.

“Ibuprofen worked _fine,”_ Hiccup insisted. 

Eret snorted.  “Damn, you two argue like a married couple.”  They both looked at him.  “What?  It’s sweet,” he said with a grin.  Then he looked past Hiccup in curiosity.  “What… is _that?”_

Hiccup turned and looked, just as he saw Ma Kosti pouring out a bottle of high proof dark rum into a measuring cup.  She grinned at Hiccup, and poured it over the cake she’d just pulled from the oven.  Hiccup grinned and whistled.  “Hey, everybody, dessert’s ready!” he called out.

The three of them got up and followed Ma Kosti to the dining room, and the crowd quickly assembled.  Ma Kosti placed the cake on the table as they all watched, and then pulled out a lighter—and set the cake on fire.

Hiccup grinned at the expressions of awe on everyone’s faces, and Ma Kosti looked up, clapped her hands in glee, and said, “So, who’s hungry for some flambéed Baked Alaska?”

Hands rose, and she took a knife and started to cut the flaming cake, handing the first piece to Astrid. 

Astrid poked at it with a spoon.  “Is there… _ice cream_ on the inside?”

Ma Kosti grinned.  “Indeed there is!  That’s why it’s called a Baked Alaska!”

Dagur peered at it from over Heather’s shoulder.  “I wasn’t aware that Alaska was on fire.”

Eret snorted.  “Give them time over there and I’m sure that they’ll fix that with another oil spill.”

“Ouch,” Hiccup observed, taking the next slice of cake.  It was delicious.

More slices got passed around, and there was much discussion over the rest of dinner; on the food, on classes, on how their classmates would react… and finally, on what Astrid’s parents had done.

After some quiet discussion with Astrid, Hiccup brought out one of the big rugged plastic bin that they’d stored the remains of her clothing in.  As he carried it into the lounge, she was behind him, holding onto his bicep so tightly that he was sure he was going to find fingerprint bruises at some point.  The rest were surrounding them, watching. 

As he popped it open and removed the lid, there was a murmur, followed by some gasps.

“Did he feed them through a paper shredder?” Ruff asked indignantly.

“Or a woodchipper?” Heather added.

They exclaimed over it, appalled.  Merida wordlessly reached in and pulled out one shirt, from Disneyland Paris.  Hiccup felt Astrid tense when she saw it, and remembered what she’d said about it; she’d gotten it on a trip to the Continent last year, when her father had taken her and her mother along for a business trip.  While he’d worked, she and her mother had gone to the theme park. 

Now, the silhouette of the happy family on the shirt was torn… the child on one half, the parents on the other.  Hiccup had wondered if that was intentional or not. 

“He did this?” Merida asked, sounding sickened.

Astrid nodded mutely, a tear dribbling down her cheek. 

“Gods, what an asshole,” Heather muttered.  “Dagur, remind me to never complain about Dad again. …  Dagur?”  She glanced to the side where he’d been standing.  “ _Dagur!?”_

Everyone looked around.  “Where is he?” Eret asked.

Then they all heard the front door slam open.

“Oh _fuck,”_ Heather swore, leapt to her feet, and bellowed, “Brother, don’t do something stupid!” 

“Too late,” Eret said—and they heard a car engine start.

 


	20. Chapter 19: We Still Are Made Of Greed

**Chapter 19: We Still Are Made Of Greed**

Astrid sat in the backseat of Eret’s car, as Eret drove to her parents’ house, Hiccup next to her, Heather in the front seat, repeatedly dialing Dagur’s cell, to no answer. 

Dagur had peeled out, and they had wasted precious moments arguing what to do.  So she grabbed Hiccup, tossed Eret at his car, and told Eret to go after Dagur.

Eret was driving as quickly as he dared—but the worst thing that they could risk right now was getting pulled over, so he was giving at least nominal attention to the speed limit and traffic laws.  At least it was late, so traffic was light.

But Dagur was nowhere in sight—so she hoped that she was wrong.

Unfortunately… she wasn’t.

They turned the corner to her old street, and, sure enough, the Oswaldsson’s car was parked in front of her parents’ house, with the driver’s door hanging open.

They all swore at the sight—although it was better than what Astrid had feared, which was Dagur ramming his car in through the big bay windows on the ground floor.

Then, as they drove, the obscuring hedges stopped blocking line of sight, and on her old lawn, visible in the streetlamp light, was Dagur and her father, brawling.

Her hands over her mouth, Astrid drank in the details as Eret frantically braked, the tires squealing against the pavement.

Her father was… _toying_ with Dagur.  Her friend was berserking at Cameron Hofferson, and it was making him sloppy.  Meanwhile, her father was amusing himself.  She could tell; he had the skill to deal with Dagur with few problems, especially as Dagur’s fighting style could be summed up as “hope and enthusiasm in place of technique.”  But, instead of finishing it quickly, her father was drawing out the fight.

She hissed in a breath as her father slapped Dagur across the face and then ground an elbow into the younger man’s ribs before sending him spinning away into the ground.  As Dagur hauled himself to his feet again, her father gave him a savage smile and extended his hands, making a ‘come at me’ gesture with his fingers. 

Dagur roared and dove at her father, who nonchalantly moved out of the way, using an _aikido_ move that would have made her old teacher hiss at seeing it being used to lengthen a fight, rather than end it.  Dagur, his momentum committed from the lunge, staggered, and then her father kicked him in the rear, sending him sprawling again. 

They all watched in stunned silence for a moment as her father taunted their friend again; there was another exchange of blows that sent Dagur reeling, even as he howled in fury and staggered from the pain.  Her father, still smiling savagely, kicked Dagur precisely in the ankle— _muay thai—_ making him scream, and try to strike out at her father, who nonchalantly blocked the blows.

Breaking their stunned silence, Eret asked, “What do we do?”

“Help him!” Heather cried, and opened the door.

The sudden motion or light must have caught Astrid’s father’s attention, as he looked up—and Dagur took the opening to land a solid punch to his gut.

Then Cameron Hofferson sneered, grabbed Dagur’s wrist, put him in a joint lock, and _twisted._  

Dagur screamed, but went with it rather than get his arm dislocated from his shoulder.

Astrid stared, her gaze meeting her father’s, as her hands clenched on Hiccup’s.  Her father put Dagur in a sleeper hold—a sloppy one—as Eret and Heather walked towards him, past the full rubbish bins on the curb… rubbish bins that, Astrid suddenly recognized, were filled with broken remains of her furniture.  She could see a shattered piece of wood which had previously been a bedpost. 

In response to her father’s grip on Dagur, Heather and Eret froze in their tracks, and Dagur’s arms, trying to score a hit, grew more and more enfeebled. 

Her father’s chest was heaving, and she could see his thoughts.  He’d win this fight… probably.  But four—or five—on one odds were nothing great to deal with, and he was already injured.  He didn’t know that Eret was hurt as well, from his ankle. 

Dagur finally fell limp and sagged in her father’s arms.  Her father called out to Astrid and her friends through cupped, bruised and battered hands; she could hear him through the open car door.  “Come take out your trash and I won’t press charges.  But unless you come in _right now_ and do as you’re told, young lady, you have until I get back to get him and clear out before I call the police for assault—and get those restraining orders voided since _you_ came to _me.”_

He dropped Dagur like a limp rag doll onto the ground, his face smacking into the grass with a wet squelch.  With one last look at them all, her father turned, and went into the house.

Everyone outside looked at each other, and then Heather ran to her brother and screamed, “Eret!”

Eret half-jumped into action and ran over; the two of them managed to get Dagur over to the cars; a brief discussion had them put Dagur into the passenger seat of his own car, while Heather hopped into the driver’s seat.  They hightailed it away from Astrid’s old home as her father came up to the door, a phone visibly glowing in his hand. 

#

Hiccup yanked the door open as Eret and Heather carried Dagur into the house.  “Dad!” 

Stoick was already there in the living room, along with Ruff, Merida, and Cami, the group of them obviously deep in worried discussion.  “What happened?”

“Dagur went and attacked Mister Hofferson; we didn’t get there in time…” Hiccup explained as Eret and Heather laid Dagur down on the floor.

Stoick looked him over and grimaced.  “Mostly superficial…”

Heather shrugged.  “I’ve seen him get worse.  But he still took some good hits.”

“And a sloppy sleeper hold,” Astrid added.  “That must have hurt.”

Hiccup added, “And Mr. Hofferson said that he won’t press charges against Dagur…”

“Why not?” Ruffnut asked.

Stoick stroked his beard.  “For any number of reasons, I could imagine, but I am curious.”

Astrid scowled.  “He was… _playing_ with Dagur.  Like a cat playing with a wounded bird.  And we all saw it…”

“And there would be surveillance footage from the front door camera,” Hiccup said.  “But… that would also show Dagur throwing the first punch.”

Stoick rubbed at his chin. “It would also show a man in his late thirties with advanced certificates in at least three martial arts beating up a seventeen-year-old with emotional control issues.”  He shook his head.  “That would be a gift from Lord Freyr to me in front of a judge or jury.  Especially if I could get expert testimony that he had the skills to end the fight without injuring Dagur.”

They all nodded, and then Astrid said, “You could show video from Father’s martial arts competitions for comparison.”

“Maybe…”  He stroked his beard.  “But that requires that this young man be dragged into a courtroom… and since he’s the one that assaulted your father… well, we’ll see how he reacts.”

Heather grimaced and stroked her brother’s forehead.  “You’re an idiot,” she said fondly.

Dagur stirred and said, “M’not… take that back…”

“Dagur!” she called happily and hugged him. 

“I’m crazy… not stup-p-p… dumb,” he slurred out.  “Owww…”  He turned and focused on Astrid.  “Hey.”

“Hey,” she said, kneeling and taking his hand in hers. 

“I got… I got him good, did ya see?”

Astrid rolled her eyes.  “Yeah, I saw.”

“How do you feel, Dagur?” Eret asked, concerned.

Dagur pulled himself up to a seated position and immediately slumped back down.  “I’ve been worse.  But owww…”

Heather said tartly, “If you weren’t so pathetic right now, I’d give you another thumping for being such a hothead!”

“Hey… he hurt Astrid…”

“And that made it a good idea?” Merida asked angrily.  “Seriously, what were you _thinking!?”_

Dagur shrugged and winced.  “I wasn’t.”

Heather threw up her hands.  “Finally!  Some honesty!”

Ma Kosti came up with an ice pack, and Dagur slapped it across his face with a relieved sigh.  “That’s better.”

Heather’s phone suddenly buzzed.  She picked it up and her face paled.  “Oh… shit.  It’s Dad.”

Dagur blinked.  “Uh oh.”

Grimacing, Heather answered it—and Hiccup could hear her father speaking indistinctly but angrily over the phone.  Then she mutely handed it over to Dagur, who took it. 

“Yeah—uh huh… hey, Dad, look—no, okay… okay…”  There was more shouting over the phone, and then he grimaced, nodding.  “I understand.”  More shouting.  “Yeah, yeah… I’ve learned my lesson.”  More shouting.  “Understood.  Bye, Dad.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to Heather.  “Welp, I’m grounded, my car privileges are revoked, and I get to be Mr. Hofferson’s household slave for the next month on weekends, at least.”

Astrid grimaced.  “He’s going to make you prep the garden for winter, muck out the gutters, and other shit.”

“Well, that won’t be too bad,” Dagur said with a considering shrug. 

Then Hiccup groaned and grimaced as the thought occurred to him.  “You do realize that he’s going to try to use you as a spy, right, Dagur?”

“Oh, shit, you’re right,” Dagur said, looking irked.  “He’s going to be  pushing me…”

“And punishing you to get at me,” Astrid said.  “Dag… I’m… I’m sorry.”

He shook his head.  “Eh.  It was all worth it for that punch.  But now, shoo, shoo!  What I can’t overhear, I can’t spill to him without thinking!”

They all got up and walked into the next room.

Hiccup shared a look with his dad.  “Charming fellow,” Stoick said tartly. 

“Which?  Dagur, or Mr. Hofferson?” Ruffnut asked.

Stoick paused.  “Either.  Both,” he said after a moment’s consideration.  “But in different ways.”

“So… now what?”

“Well, I advise that Ms. Oswaldsson take herself and her brother home as soon as possible, to keep their parents from getting more upset,” Stoick said.  “And, well, we shall keep drawing this out.  It’s only been a few days so far.  We’ll continue as we have.” 

Hiccup nodded and went into the kitchen; getting together what was left of the meal, he packed what bits he remembered Dagur liking best into a container and brought it over to the groaning guy.

“What’s this?” Dagur asked as Hiccup handed him the bag.

“A thank you,” Hiccup said.  “He pasted me pretty bad last week.  So thanks for standing up for us.”

“I did it for Astrid, not for you, Haddock…” Dagur said, and groaned.  “But you’re welcome anyway.”

Hiccup grinned.  “You’re a good guy, Dagur.”

“Hey, take that back…” Dagur said with a matching grin.  “I’ve got a rep to maintain here!”

“Nah, we’ll tell everybody that Dagur the Deranged is so softhearted that—”

“Watch it, Haddock,” Dagur said with a growl. 

“Fine, fine,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes.  “But, seriously, thanks.”

“You’re welcome, I guess,” Dagur said.  “And thanks for the food.”

Hiccup nodded and left to return to the rest of the group, where they were discussing the situation at school.  By now, the social media frenzy on them had died down, thanks to an S3-form girl who had been caught cheating on her boyfriend… with two other boys, neither of whom knew about the others. 

Hiccup gave a sidelong glance at his dad and Ma Kosti as they listened in.  Ma Kosti caught it and leaned in to him and said, “Now that is something that I know that you would never do.”

Hiccup shook his head.  “Nope.”  He looked across the room to Astrid, who was talking animately with Heather and Dagur.  “No, I wouldn’t.”  If anything, what he’d just seen make him that much more in awe of Astrid’s strength of character.  She’d been raised by two monsters… and while she had her flaws, the fact that she could stand up to them and dare to love and think on her own…

How could he not love someone like that when she loved him, despite everything that she’d suffered?

That thought stayed with him as their guests slowly left over the next hour.  He even gave Dagur a hug as he and his sister left.  Dagur had taken the opportunity to softly comment into his ear, “You promise to take care of her?”

Hiccup nodded.

“Good.  Do a better job than I did, would ya?”

They laughed together, and then Heather and Dagur left. 

#

The next day, Astrid sat in Hiccup’s desk chair, dressed in panties and a t-shirt, as he cracked open the first IKEA box for the new bedframe.  They had given his old bed a fond farewell last night and this morning, giving the new mattress time to expand from its compressed roll—which _had_ been cool to watch.  And smelly. 

But now, it was time to build the new bed.  They emptied the box to lay out all of the bits and pieces, and she sorted the hardware while he did the same with the wooden beams that made up the bedframe.  The bookcases had already been moved out to the landing, and they’d had a grand, if good-natured, argument over which way would be faster—emptying them, moving and then reloading, or just pushing them into position.  So they’d done one of each, and Astrid had won—pushing them into place was faster for the short distance they were going.

She hadn’t even gloated—much.

Now, though, her heart was quivering in anticipation and love as Hiccup, wearing boxers and a t-shirt, knelt on the floor. 

“Okay, so, what’s first?” he asked.

She looked over the instructions.  “Um… take that one long beam with the two holes in the center and screw this into one of the holes, and put this into the other,” she said, handing over the weird screw with the odd barrel and a small wooden stick. 

Hiccup grinned.  “Oooh woo woo, talk dirty to me,” he said jokingly as he took the two pieces.

She stuck her tongue out at him as he found the appropriate beam and inserted the hardware.  He laughed, and quickly assembled them. 

“What next?”

“Attach that shorter beam with all of the holes in the side to it to make a T, and then slide that U-shape over that piece,” she pointed, “and you attach them with these,” she handed over the next bits of hardware.  “This is going to be the headboard.”

A little bit of work and Hiccup had the assembly underway; she watched, and kept unconsciously licking her lips as she saw his muscles work under his skin.  While he wasn’t a muscle-bound idiot like Snotlout, he was lithe and wiry and, _gods,_ they’d had sex just two hours ago and was she really getting horny watching him assemble _IKEA_ _furniture?!_

She was _hopeless._

She barely managed to stifle a giggle at that.  He was already sweaty from disassembling his old bed and moving the bookcases; she saw some droplets sliding down his skin and she was itching to put the instructions aside and lick them up.

He finished screwing— _stop that—_ he finished attaching the two pieces together fairly quickly, and looked up at her.  “What next?”

“Oh, right, right!” she stammered and hurriedly looked down at the instructions.  “Uh, you’ll need those eight sticks for the rest of the headboard, and more of those little sticks—”

“Dowels,” he supplied with a grin.

“Yeah.  Those.  Sixteen.  One sex— _sec_ ,” she said, correcting herself hopefully before he noticed, and turned to the neat rows of bits and pieces on the desk.  She started hurriedly counting them out as Hiccup got the headboard pieces together.  But since he had them all ready and waiting in a stack, he was waiting for her and had an insufferable grin on his face as she gave him the handful of dowels.

As he inserted them into the appropriate holes and put the planks into place, she was _certain_ that he _knew._   It was no coincidence that he was bending over to have his shirt ride up and exposing his so-far unmarked waistline and lower back, which she was suddenly itching to cover in more love bites.  Oh, he _knew_ that she was suffering over here, and was deliberately tormenting her.

Well, two could play at that game. 

As he finished up, she had the dowels ready for him, and he asked, “What next?”

“These dowels connect those two longer beams,” she showed him on the diagram, “to the rest of the headboard.  See how it lays flat?”

He leaned over, and she innocently brushed her hand against his ear as he looked it over.  “See?  Next, we flip it over and screw it together like that…” she said quietly, trying to keep her voice from getting too breathy. 

He nodded, seemingly unaffected.  “I’ve got another ratchet wrench and a spare hex head; we can do it together and do it twice as fast.”

She stifled a groan, and nodded.  “Sounds good,” she said, and was proud that her voice wasn’t audibly choked. 

He started putting the dowels in, and it took so much effort on her part to keep from getting up and putting her hands on that firm rear of his as it bobbed in mid-air—and maybe yanking down those boxers while she was at it.

He finished quickly, his nimble fingers—oh, gods, his _fingers—_ quickly sliding things into place.  The planks nestled together in a fashion that made memories of her mounting him flash before her eyes. 

“Time to flip it,” she said, and got out of the chair.

He nodded, and she eyed him sidelong as they took opposite sides of the frame and flipped it—and, it seemed, he wasn’t as unaffected as he pretended to be, judging by the half-mast tent in his boxers that he was trying to hide.

_Score!_

She got the screws and the ratchet wrench, and they each took a side to… to screw in. 

As they worked, she deliberately made sure to keep her pumping of the ratchet wrench in a rhythm like that of giving him a handjob whenever she caught him looking. 

That ended each time with him accidentally, heh, _pulling out_ his wrench from the screw’s socket through inattention. 

She finished her side first, and gracefully hopped to her feet, to get the next bits—little metal sticks that Hiccup had to pound in with his hammer.  And he got his revenge for her antics, as he tapped them in delicately, one at a time,  and she sat there, watching.

The next few steps passed in a lustful haze, as they assembled the foot of the bed, and put the plastic feet on the bottoms of the frame’s legs, and then Hiccup attached the two metal brackets to the head and foot.

But then came the troublesome part.

She handed him the screws and took up her ratchet as it came time to assemble the full frame, attaching the foot and header to the long side planks. 

And with both of them crouching there, working at assembling it together…

Well, it was Astrid’s turn to accidentally yank her wrench free of the screw.  Twice. 

First attaching the footer to the long planks… and then the headboard.  And watching him crouching there, his skin glistening, she was making nearly constant strangled noises that she could only hope were being covered up by the _click-click-click_ of the ratchet, but she knew that she wasn’t that lucky. 

“Wh—what next?” he asked when they were done with that step.

“Uh… those metal rails.  We… we attach them along here,” she pointed to the drill points along the insides of the long planks, “and screw them into place.”

He swallowed, and said, “I take one side, you take the other?”

She nodded, not trusting her voice, and they gathered the needed bits and pieces and got to work. 

She crouched on the left side of the frame, exquisitely aware of Hiccup doing the same just behind her, and started to screw the metal rail into place. 

But she was having problems getting the thing to stay in place, and at her third curse, Hiccup turned around and asked, “Need some help?”

She glanced to his side—his rail was already hanging neatly in place, and she saw what she’d been doing wrong.  “No… I got it,” she said.  “I need to do the one at the end… rather than try to work my way down.”

He nodded, and turned back to his rail—only to have his knee bump into her bare leg in the confines of the bed frame.  Then he paused, trying not to knock her over, and his leg slid up along hers. 

And that was enough. 

She twisted around and yanked at his shirt, pulling him into a kiss.  He wasn’t doing much better than her, judging by how intensely he returned the kiss, but he managed to break it anyway, and ask in a guttural groan, “Now… or when we finish?”

She didn’t hesitate.  “ _Now.”_   And kissed him again. 

They groped and rolled, and he ended up on top of her this time, kissing all along the sides of her neck and sucking on the sensitive skin below her ears as she stroked him and pulled him free of his boxers.  They didn’t even bother getting undressed this time; she pulled her panties to the side, his cock sticking out of the fly of his boxers.  Then he pulled back—and before she could protest, he pulled her with him, her seated in his lap, and then, with a quick shift, he slid in and filled her.  She moaned, and they started to move together. 

They’d never tried this position before, and it a was a little awkward—he popped free of her twice as they fucked, making both of them hiss and moan in irritation and disappointment—but it was enjoyable nonetheless.  They barely broke the kiss, even as they slid along each other, and she vaguely noticed that he wasn’t filling her very deeply.  But she didn’t care, because she had most of the control, and with every rise and fall, his cock rubbed along her clit, making her moan with lust into his mouth…

And then he broke the kiss, bent his head, lifted the hem of her shirt up, and started to work on her nipples with his tongue. 

“ _Hiccup…”_ she moaned as he drew circles around the stiff peaks, and the heat in her belly rose with each stroke. 

He released her nipple from his mouth, making her whine in protest, and he asked cheekily, “Yes, milady?”

“Don’t… stop…” she breathed out as she continued to bounce on him. 

“Okay,” he said, and latched onto her other breast, making her moan anew. 

Her bouncing was getting faster and sloppier as she chased her climax, and she was getting close—and then Hiccup took one hand off of her back, and tweaked her other nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

And that was enough to drive her over the edge.  A moment later, she lay panting and happy in his arms, the two of them sagging together, although he was still hard inside her. 

“That… gods, we’re _terrible,”_ she panted.  “That was great… but… but… how long were you suffering for?”

He was also breathing hard, and said, “Since you sat down and were sorting out the screws and dowels with your tongue held between your teeth.”

She panted in another deep breath and grinned.  “My tongue, huh?  Okay…”

Moving stiffly, she carefully pulled free of him, and then knelt in front of him.  Her hands on his thighs, she carefully took him in her mouth, tasting herself on him.  He moaned.

She bobbed up and down on him, running her tongue along and around, feeling his blood throb under the skin, tasting their mingled flavors of sweetness and musk, and enjoying each moan from him as music to her ears.

“Ast… I’m…” he finally gasped out, and she pulled back to run her tongue around the rim of his head. 

He groaned, and spilled into her mouth, warm and sweet and salty, and she loved every moment of it. 

She released him and crawled up next to him, and the two of them laid there in a lazy embrace for a long moment, just catching their breath and kissing slowly. 

Then he asked softly, “Does this count as breaking in the bed?”

She shook her head and grinned.  “Nope.”

“Awesome,” he said with a grin, and she responded with the same. 

Then he smirked.  “‘Insert Tab A into Slot B…’”

They burst out laughing, even as she jokingly swatted him for the terrible innuendo.

Eventually, they got back to work assembling the bedframe, and managed to complete it and the wardrobe without another lapse… but that was because they were both waiting to break in the bed after the mattress had a full day to decompress itself… 

So when they finally got ready to sleep that night, the two of them spooning together just as tightly as ever on the larger king-size mattress, it was after what could only be called a marathon of fucking.  Nude under the sheets, they’d definitely broken in the new bed alright.  They’d started with her riding him—well, after he fingered her to two orgasms in a row, the cheater—and then shifted to him on top in missionary, but they didn’t like that one as much, due to his hands being taken out of play.  They’d stopped before he came and shifted to making out—where _again_ he’d fingered her clit to the point of another orgasm, and then he’d taken her from behind, his hands roaming over her back and breasts, while she’d fiddled with her clit.  And then they’d finished off _that_ round with a blowjob, where she’d drunk him down and grinned mischievously.  And that had been round one of… two?  Three?  How did you count it?

Now, at the end of it all, Astrid flicked off the light and felt the sweat drying on her skin, as a new pattern of love bites darkened on Hiccup’s chest and back.  Giving him those had made him spill all over her after she’d brought him to the edge with another blowjob, and she’d jokingly berated him as she made him watch her clean herself off… one… _slow…_ lick at a time.  By the time she’d gotten the last of his seed off her skin with her fingers, he’d been hard again, and she’d gotten down on all fours for him to take her from behind.

But now… smelling the fresh sheets underneath them, a new pillow for her under her head, the room rearranged to make space for her new wardrobe… Now, she was home.  And _this_ was her home, there was no question. This was where she belonged.

As she closed her eyes, the languorous afterglow of more orgasms that she could count bringing a delicious lassitude that pulled her down to sleep, she murmured quietly to herself, “Astrid Haddock… yeah…”  She nodded to herself. 

It sounded _right_. 

Maybe not today, or next month, but she knew what her answer would be when Hiccup asked. 

But in her own mind, at the very least, she was no longer Astrid Hofferson.  Astrid Haddock, that’s who she was. 

The paperwork and ceremony to make it legal and official might just take a little while.

But she had a proper loving family now, and she wanted to be a part of them in a way that she had never _wanted_ anything ever before. 

Yeah…

_Astrid Haddock…_

Her future husband’s arms around her, she drifted off to sleep, and her dreams were happy ones.

 


	21. Interlude: I Wipe My Brow And I Sweat My Rust

**Interlude: I Wipe My Brow And I Sweat My Rust**

Stoick entered the office and looked at the Academy’s dean.  Johann was new to the position since Stoick had graduated, nearly thirty years before from this very school, but he knew the man fairly well. 

They exchanged pleasantries, and Stoick sat in the slightly-too-small chair in front of the desk.  Then Stoick leaned forward and said, “Now that you’re aware of the full situation with my son and Miss Hofferson, will there be any issues?”

Johann looked down and coughed.  “Actually… well…”  He looked up at Stoick.  “I and the others in the administration spoke with the members of the board, and, well…”

Stoick narrowed his eyes.  “Johann.  What is the problem?”

“Well, there’s a member of the school board that is here to speak with you on this matter,” Johann said, and pressed a button on his desk.  A moment later, the door behind Stoick opened.  He turned—and it took every bit of effort he had to keep from leaping out of the chair and delivering a well-deserved punch. 

Cameron Hofferson strode in, dressed impeccably in his expensive tailored suit, and took a seat—next to Johann.

Stoick schooled his features into impassivity.  “Mr. Hofferson.”

“Brigadier Haddock,” the other man replied with a nod and a remarkable poker face.  “I see that you’re not much in the mood for pleasantries, so I suppose that I’ll get right down to business.  The school board has discussed the situation with Henry Haddock and Astrid Hofferson.”

“And?” Stoick prompted.

“After much discussion regarding their current circumstances, the board sees no reason to have them removed from the student body,” Hofferson said flatly.  “Either of them.”

Johann smiled slightly, and said, “They are, after all, the top two students in their form.  Some… allowances can be made in such situations.”

Hofferson nodded, and Stoick saw the brief flicker of a scowl.  “Yes.  Allowances.  But the board’s patience is at its limit in this regard.”  He smiled unpleasantly at Stoick.  “So, the board’s decision is this: if their grades drop… or there are any _additional_ scandals or violations of the student rules—from either of them—for the remainder of the term, they _will_ be expelled, either singularly or jointly.”

Stoick felt his blood freeze when he realized what the man was implying.  “Define those, if you would.”

“Behavioral problems.  Conduct unbecoming and in violation of the student guidelines.”  He fixed Stoick with a steady gaze.  “For example, if they were to, oh, say, _get married,_ the school would have no choice but to remove them from the student body, due to such _reproachable_ conduct at their age.  The school does have a reputation for behavioral standards to maintain, after all.”

Stoick felt his jaw drop slightly, and then shut it in a hurry. 

Hofferson quirked his eyebrows, and continued.  “However, should they both manage to graduate… I think that I can assure you and them that they will both get offers of enrollment at one of the ancient universities.  Say… Edinburgh, as my own alma mater, for my daughter…” he narrowed his eyes and stared directly into Stoick’s, “and Glasgow for your son, given how you attended there.”

Stoick kept his face carefully expressionless.  “I see.”

Hofferson continued to stare at him.  “It would, however, be better all around if my daughter were to return home and allow things to return to normal.”

Stoick turned to Johann.  “Is there anything else?  Because I believe that we’re done here.”

Johann turned to Hofferson, who gave a curt nod. 

Stoick rose from his chair without any further ceremony—only to find Hofferson standing just out of arm’s reach.  He resisted the urge to punch the man, as he recalled the mess of Dagur’s face.  The man would almost certainly happily trade a black eye for an assault charge against Stoick. 

“If you have something to say, say it,” he said curtly.  If the man was foolish enough—or sadistic enough—to not filter his communications through Alvin, who was Stoick to not encourage him?

Hofferson looked up at him, moving lightly on the balls of his feet and keeping himself centered.  “I want my child back, Haddock.  And I _will get her back_.  She is _my_ child, and your son has led her astray.  She is _mine,_ not yours, and I will not be made a fool of in my own house!”

Stoick looked at the father of his client, and felt bile rise in his throat.  He’d already made note of the fact that Astrid consistently referred to this man as ‘Father’.  Never ‘Dad’.  Now he understood _why_ , in a way that he hadn’t before. 

“She doesn’t want to return to you,” Stoick said flatly.  He almost said that she didn’t want to return _home_ … but, by her own words, Stoick’s house was more of a _home_ for her after a week than her parents’ house was after a lifetime. 

“Irrelevant.  She is _my_ child, and she will _obey_ me.”

Stoick narrowed his eyes and scowled, but said nothing.

“Haddock,” Hofferson said after a moment.  “Look.  We are both men of the world.  I understand you wanting her to keep the pregnancy.  It’s your grandchild, after all.”

Stoick clenched his teeth at what that simple statement betrayed.  Rather than it being _their_ grandchild…  it was his, and his alone.  The other man had rejected it already.

Meanwhile, Hofferson continued, “But there’s no reason to destroy her future over this!  She’s an overemotional child, who needs proper discipline to guide her.  She has a future, and this threatens all of it!”  He leaned in.  “Hel, if we worked together on this, we could quiet this scandal.  You can keep the child after it is born, and I’ll see to it that nobody needs to know about your son’s indiscretion.  She comes home to me and everybody wins.”

_Everybody… except my client,_ Stoick thought, _who is so terrified of you that a scowl from me was enough to send her into a panic._ He looked at Hofferson, hiding his disgust as best he could, and said nothing.

“It is for the best, Haddock.  My daughter… I’ve done my best to give her a good life.  She’s met the Queen!  Knows the sons of half of the House of Lords!  She has good prospects!  Don’t force her to throw it all away on some teenaged romanticism that will fade into regret!”

Stoick blinked despite himself.  _Oh.  So that’s your plan?  She’s your ticket into the peerage.  I see._

“You are asking me to work against my client’s desires,” he rumbled.

“But for her best interests!” Hofferson replied.  “Look.  Just… just send her home, and I’ll make this all go away.  And I can make sure that things work out well for everyone involved.”

Stoick narrowed his eyes.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, you’re a brigadier.  And I know some people.  How does Major-General Haddock sound?”

Stoick pursed his lips, trying to hide his shock at the blatant attempt at bribery. 

“Maybe a scholarship for your son.  I know people at Oxford and Cambridge…”  He looked at Stoick.  “I think that should constitute a sufficient apology for what happened the other day at your home.  And I am sorry.  I was exhausted after being up all night looking and I… reacted poorly.”

Stoick managed to keep the skepticism from his face, but it was a near thing.  “I’ll take it under consideration.  In the meantime, I have to go.”

“Haddock!” Hofferson blurted as Stoick turned.  “Please.  Just… just consider it.  You’re a father, like me—”

_I am nothing like you,_ Stoick thought. 

“—and I just want what is best for her.  Surely you understand that.”

Stoick rumbled, “I do.”  _In ways that I doubt that you’ll ever comprehend._  

“I also want what is best for your son,” Hofferson said, and despite himself, Stoick’s eyes narrowed and turned back.  _I was wondering when the stick to go with that carrot was going to show up._

“Go on,” he said flatly.

“Well, your son is quite the intelligent young man, but he seems to have… poor impulse control.  Unable to hold back from temptation in meddling in things that he has no right to.  Like my daughter… and my computer.”

Stoick couldn’t help himself.  “You know, you _can_ trust him in that regard.”

“I gave him my trust once already and now look where we are!” Hofferson snapped.  “No, I’ll find whatever it is that he infected my system with… and I’ll admit, he has more audacity than I gave him credit for.  But I’m willing to forgive him… if this comes to an end _now._ ”

“And if not?” Stoick asked, trying to appear unperturbed even as he seethed inside. 

“Then we have a problem.  And I don’t _like_ problems.  And I _deal_ with problems.”  Hofferson scowled.  “Bad enough that he laid a hand on my daughter without my permission… but now he’s taunted me.  Go ask him, if you don’t believe me, what it was that he sent me.”

Stoick gave Hofferson a small smirk.  “Oh, I know,” he said, and was gratified to see Hofferson’s fists clench.  _Go ahead.  Punch me.  You threatened my son and my client.  I can take it.  And I’ll make sure that you pay for it._

But, to his disappointment, Hofferson controlled himself. 

So Stoick twisted the knife a little bit more.  “What, Cameron, upset at seeing your daughter so _happy?_ ”

Hofferson audibly ground his teeth and bit out, “She’s debased herself and I won’t _have it.”_

“I think that you’ve made your position on this situation abundantly clear,” Stoick said dryly.  “Now, unless there’s anything else you’d like to say…”

Hofferson scowled.  “You will not want me as an enemy, Haddock.”

Stoick stared at the other father.  “Given everything, I do not see how I can be anything else.  Good day.”

And, with that, he left, thankfully before the impulse to ignore his own advice and punch Hofferson in the face grew too great.  Perhaps technically it was a conflict of interest, in that he couldn’t maintain the ideal of a sufficiently emotionally detached perspective on this, but…  Well.  He was willing to make an exception for the sake of that exceptional young woman who held his son’s heart. 

His black mood at the vileness he’d just confronted stuck with him the whole drive home.  But as he opened the door, he heard laughter and cheerful argument. 

“I’m back,” he called out. 

The laughter from the back of the house paused, and then resumed even louder.  “Stoick, we need some help!” he heard Astrid call out.  “Your son’s a dirty rotten cheater!”

“No I’m not!” Henry’s voice protested.

Curious, Stoick walked into the lounge, and stopped dead, incredulous. 

Henry and Astrid were awkwardly sprawled on the floor, lying on a brightly colored sheet of plastic dotted with four parallel lines of blue, red, yellow and green circles, while a spinner sat in the lap of one of their friends; the dark-haired girl—Heather Oswaldsson, if he recalled correctly—was sitting on the couch, turning red with laughter; a box labeled “Twister” lay open nearby.  “What’s going on?” Stoick asked, vague memories of the game coming up from his youth.

“Hiccup cheated!” Astrid protested, pointing awkwardly from where she was twisted around on the game mat, her spine bent in a way that made Stoick’s back twinge and ache in sympathy.  Henry’s prosthetic foot was sitting on one of the nearby colored circles—unattached to his leg. 

“Hey, the rules said that my foot has to touch the circle!” Henry insisted.  “It did!”

“But it isn’t _on_ your leg!” Astrid insisted.  “And our referee is useless!”

Stoick looked at Heather, who was trying so hard to compose herself, even as tears of laughter cascaded down her cheeks. 

“You’re a lawyer, Stoick,” Astrid said.  “We need a ruling so I can win!”

Heather, her hands shaking with laughter, handed him the rules at his wordless look. 

Stoick reviewed the text as Henry and Astrid continued to cheerfully bicker about his move. 

Then he asked, “Henry, did you remove your hand from the mat in order to remove your foot?”

He nodded.

“Then you’re eliminated, and Astrid is the victor.”  He pointed to the rules as Astrid whooped in victory, and promptly collapsed from her awkward position onto Henry’s stomach, knocking him to the floor as well. 

Ignoring their wheezing and laughter, Stoick quoted, hiding a smile, “‘Never remove your hand or foot from a circle unless you're directed to by the referee after a spin.  _Exception:_  You may lift a hand or foot to allow another hand or foot to pass by, as long as you announce it to the referee  _beforehand_ , and replace it on its circle immediately afterward.’  Since you removed your hand and did not immediately replace it, you forfeited and Astrid won.”  He handed the rules back to their friend, who had burst out into a renewed bout of giggles, and left.

Even if he had considered for a heartbeat accepting Hofferson’s bribe—which he hadn’t—the scene of joy and friendship that he’d just witnessed would have committed him to continuing to protect young Astrid.  Not just for his son’s sake, not just for his potential grandchild’s sake… but for the sake of a young woman who needed a place of safety from abuse, and yet could still laugh and smile and be happy. 

And he had to tell them about her father’s counter-move… but that could wait.  He would not be the one responsible for blighting such a happy mood.

He returned to the office and started to write up his notes from the meeting that he had just come from, and pondering Hofferson’s next move.  What the man had revealed to him was enlightening, now that he was removed from the immediate desire to rearrange the man’s face. 

First, while Hofferson clearly had significant influence in the school board, Astrid and Henry were not without their own supporters.  But Hofferson had also blocked their best option for getting Astrid away from his legal clutches.  Getting either of them expelled would make passing the Highers nearly impossible.  Oh, he had confidence in their intelligence, but it was more a matter of logistics and timing of deadlines—especially if Hofferson threw enough grit into the gears to make paperwork go missing for critical windows and other such dirty tricks.  So, now it seemed, his son… and his client… were in for the long haul.  They just had to get to graduation in seven months—coincidentally, also when the baby was due, if Astrid kept it—and Hofferson’s current threat would be taken off the game board, and they’d be back to where they’d been yesterday. 

And… well…

He’d checked their security box at Berk’s bank when he’d gone last week to get the cash for Astrid’s clothes.  Valka’s engagement ring was still there, sitting innocently in the same box it had been in for the last nineteen years since his own wedding.  It would just have to get resized…

But that was a longer-term option.  Due to the required waiting times, it would take a month, minimum, from proposal to wedding, as he’d told them. 

And a lot could happen in a month. 

He put his hands on his face and massaged his temples with his elbows on the desk.  After all, it had been barely a week ago that he’d been driving home from the mainland airport, looking forward to seeing his son and home… to find Henry and a teenaged girl fighting against an older man on their front lawn.

And in that week, he’d witnessed that his son was more than he’d ever thought he was.  A _good_ man, one who inspired love and devotion and loyalty.  Who had _earned_ the love of a remarkable young woman who had earned Stoick’s respect.  Who had _earned_ the enmity of a man that Stoick could only describe as evil. 

In another week, another month, who was to say what that would bring?

Well, in the morning, he would have to fly out again, and be gone for most of the next week.  He had duties… and while part of him worried deeply for his son and the woman he was certain would be his future daughter-in-law, part of him was also glad to be giving them space.  Space for them to bond even tighter… and, he was sure, Astrid’s comment about making love to Henry… to _Hiccup_ in every room in the house hadn’t been an idle one.  Best that they got that over with.  He would be sure to ask Hiccup to make sure that all of the relevant cushion covers were washed before he returned home…

There was a knock at the door to the office, and he looked up.  Henry and Astrid were standing there, looking inquisitive. 

“How did it go?” his son asked.  “Are we still allowed to go there?”

Stoick sighed.  “It could have been worse.  But, well…” He rested his face on his hands.  “Why don’t you two take a seat, and I’ll explain…”

 

* * *

 

**AN: I want to try something; I'm going to start leaving fic recs for other fics that I've enjoyed at the end of every chapter.**

**First up is _Behind The Masks_ , by _HarryPanther_ , which was one of the inspirations for this fic. Also a High School AU, Hiccup is one of the bad boy crowd, getting into trouble all the time and disrespecting everyone, while Astrid is "Miss Perfect", head of the class and with top grades. Except nothing is quite as it seems… **

**Lots of angst, some violence, and a sweet romance between Hiccstrid that made me wish that HarryPanther was brave enough to take the smut plunge. ;) There are a couple of plot points that I side-eye a bit, but nothing that really breaks my suspension of disbelief. The plot flows well, and if you're fond of Hiccup!Whump, I have to highly recommend.**


	22. Chapter 20: This Is My Kingdom Come

**Chapter 20: This Is My Kingdom Come**

Hiccup, his arm around Astrid, watched as his Dad loaded up the boot of his car with his duffel without even a grunt.  Closing the lid, he turned to the two of them and smiled.  “Alright.  Now, what are your instructions?”

Hiccup took in a deep breath and started to recite.  “You’ll be back next week on Tuesday.  Keep the door locked, and stay together when out of the house, regardless of where we’re going.  If Mr. Hofferson tries to show up with anybody to have Astrid taken away by force, call Officer Hoark immediately and then you, and hide in the basement crawlspace if it looks like they’ll try to break down the door.  Ma Kosti will be by daily to check on us.  If anything suspicious happens, take pictures or video and send it to you immediately.  We have a thousand pounds—five hundred cash, five hundred credit—for emergencies, plus another two hundred for groceries.  Check my moped for tampering before getting onto it.  And keep the curtains drawn.  At school, we have to be on our best behavior, and document all of our work in case of grade tampering and under-grading.  And, if shit really hits the fan, hit the panic button app.”

Stoick smiled.  “Good.  Meanwhile… I know that this is your first time alone together… but… please just stay out of the office?”

Hiccup glanced at Astrid, and found himself sharing a smile with his lover. “Oh, don’t worry, dad.  We have a bet.”

Stoick gave them a strangled smile.  “Oh?”

“Yeah,” Astrid said, wrapping her arms around Hiccup.  “Whoever breaks first and initiates things outside of _our_ bedroom,” Hiccup could hear the ecstatic cheer in her voice at the emphasis, “owes the other person a forfeit.”

Stoick looked at the two of them, both of them grinning at him, and blinked.  “Oh… Lady Freyja is probably laughing at the two of you from her hall.”  He shook his head, smiling.  “Well, take care.  I need to get to the airport.”  Still smiling, he hugged them both—first Hiccup, then Astrid, enveloping them in his wide embrace, mussing with their hair, and patting their shoulders—and then got into his car and drove off. 

Hiccup watched the car reach the corner and turn.  He and Astrid were standing on the front step, both of them in robes and slippers, and the October chill was enough to make them both shiver slightly. 

“Well, there he goes,” Astrid said.  “This is going to feel weird.”

“What, my dad not being in the house?” Hiccup asked.

“Yeah,” she said, and then turned to the door and pulled it open.

As they reentered the house, Hiccup shrugged.  “It’s normal for me, though.  He’s gone… maybe half the time?  There have been months where I’ve seen more of Ma Kosti than him.”

Astrid winced.  “And what was his reasoning for that?”

“Well, this way, I can live here, in the family home, and not on military base after military base, constantly bouncing around.  And I’m pretty sure that it has cost him a promotion or two; he is still only a brigadier.  ‘Stable peer group’ was another phrase that I’ve heard.”  He leaned up against her and hugged her close.  “And if he hadn’t… then we never would have met.”

She twitched.  “Okay.  But…” she glanced in the direction the car had gone, “I… yeah.”

Hiccup shrugged.  “It’s just part of my life.  Don’t worry about it.”  He pulled her tighter.  “So… we have six days of break left.  I say we spend today lying like lumps in the lounge, playing video games, watching movies and relaxing.”  Their homework was already done, the two of them having plowed through over the last few days.

She grinned.  “Okay.  But tomorrow I want to visit the temple.  I need to give thanks for what I’ve been given.”  She pulled him tighter, just in case he missed her meaning. 

As the two of them picked out their playlist for the day, Hiccup looked her over and felt himself melt with love.  He loved her.  From the way that she brushed her hair over her ear, to the graceful way she walked, to the easy banter they had, all the way to the cheerful manner in which she shouted humorous threats to his health and well-being this morning.  That had been hilarious; when he tried to drag her out of bed this morning, she had wrapped her legs around the blanket to try to hold it down as he pulled on it, both of them laughing to the point where they were streaming tears from their eyes. 

One thing was for sure: he could never get enough of Astrid Hofferson. 

He remembered how lonely he’d been last year at this time.  His dad had been gone for two weeks.  He’d been putting together a Samhain costume as a Cyberman, and had been _burning_ to show it off to someone other than Ma Kosti.  And he’d gotten so many compliments on it when he’d gone out in it, but nobody had asked who he was—not helped by the fact that he’d set it up specifically so that it would use the authentic Cyberman voices, allowing him to ‘speak’ with the press of a button.  And that had hurt when he’d realized that they were complimenting his costume… and not him inside it.

This year…

Well, they were running out of time, but he had some ideas for costumes. 

“Hey, Ast?” he said as she added another movie to the stack.

“Yes?”

“Any ideas on what we could do for Samhaim?”

She smirked.  “Oh, yes.”

When she didn’t elaborate, he leaned over and said, “So… care to share?”

“Well, I _could,_ or I could leave it as a surprise,” she said, grinning. 

“Oh?  A _surprise,_ you say?” he asked with a matching grin.

She pulled away from the bookcase, turned and gave him a peck on the cheek—which was not a violation of their bet—and then smiled warmly at him.  “Yes.  A surprise.  The girls are helping me with both outfits… and I want it to be a surprise for you.”

Hiccup blinked.  “For me?”

She laid back like a cat and smiled at him.  “Yes.  Hiccup… you’ve done so much for me.  Let me do something for you.”  Her smile turned into a smirk.  “And I think that you’ll be happy with it.”

He grinned.  “Alright then.  So, let’s see… what to watch?”  He glanced over the pile.  “Looks like you’re planning on binging the Marvel Cinematic Universe.”

She snorted.  “I’d like to be able to know what people are talking about, and you know how my father was about ‘low-brow entertainment.’”

Hiccup grimaced and nodded.  “Alright.  So, Iron Man it is.” He popped the DVD into the player and they sat back to watch and work their way through the MCU.  Toothless came over and sat at—and then on—their feet.  After they finished the first movie, they dressed in running clothes and took Toothless for a run. 

Hiccup looked to Astrid as they jogged through the park.  Her braid was flapping and bouncing, and she was grinning at him. 

He grinned back, and then they both laughed as Toothless tore after a squirrel at top speed.  Astrid watched as the big black dog chased the poor rodent up a tree, and cheered as the squirrel scolded him from its safe perch. 

Toothless eventually gave up with a huff, and marched back, clearly smarting at having been outmaneuvered by a piece of fuzz the size of his tail.

Astrid, laughing, crouched to her knees and gave Toothless a scratch all over his head, making the dog give happy noises.  “Oh, who is a good dog?  Who is a good dog?  Yes, you, yes you are,” she said in baby-talk as her fingers worked under his jaw and the dog slumped, panting happily. 

Hiccup watched, grinning, as Toothless rolled over and she gave him a tummy rub.  “I never would have been able to do this with Stormfly,” she said softly.  “It would have been a trap.”

Hiccup sobered.  She never talked about her old cat. 

She sighed.  “I miss her.”

“What happened?”

She paused, and then returned to the belly rub with more vigor.  “She… Father told me that she got out and got hit by a car.”  Hiccup crouched and hugged her, and she sniffed.  “Then… two days later, he tells me I have a new tutor.”

Hiccup cringed at the memories of their first sessions together.  “Oh.  That’s…”

“Yeah.”  She inhaled sharply and stood.  “Come on.  Let’s… let’s go home.”  Toothless rolled back to his feet, and they returned at a light jog.

As they showered, Astrid was noticeably melancholy.  “You okay?” he asked.

She nodded.  “Hiccup… can you tell me how you got Toothless?”

He smiled as she shampooed his hair.  “I was nine, and I’d just been dealing with some surgery on my stump and going through new legs every few months, and I was pretty upset about it all.”  Her fingernails felt divine as they massaged the foam into his scalp.  “So, one day, Ma Kosti comes in with a box… and inside is a puppy.  And I instantly felt protective of him—especially since he was missing part of his leg, just like I was.  I looked at him… and I saw myself.  The breeder was going to put him down, but Ma Kosti managed to rescue him for me.  And we’ve been friends ever since.”

Astrid sniffed, and wrapped her arms around him, and they stood there in the shower for a while. 

#

Exiting Ma Kosti’s car, Astrid looked up at the temple.  This was her first time coming here with Hiccup, and… well, she was nervous.  This would be her first time out in public with him.  The trip to Glasgow and Edinburgh didn’t count—those were effectively anonymous shopping trips.  Here, people knew them. 

And she was afraid.

There was no point lying about it.  She was afraid.  Someone was going to call her a disobedient daughter, or attack her or Hiccup verbally, and it would all blow up…

His hand intertwined with hers, and her heartbeat slowed.  She remembered coming here with her mother and father, and being treated as an accessory.  Now she was here with her lover and partner.  She was here to give thanks for him, not to impress others with her piety.

She leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek.  Meanwhile, Ma Kosti bustled with unloading the various cookies that she and Hiccup had baked over the last week; they were going into the temple’s freezer, to be distributed on Samhain.  Astrid’s own predations of the various delicious treats had barely made a dent in their numbers.  She didn’t know which ones were her favorites; the sugar cookies with the frosting were sweet and delicious, but the American-style chocolate chip were chewy and rich, and the ginger nuts had a spicy bite to them that was unlike any of the others.  But the Empire biscuits—filled with raspberry jam—were strong contenders as well.  And while they weren’t technically cookies, she was looking forward to the promised batch of caramel shortcakes that Ma Kosti would be making this weekend. 

She and Hiccup entered the temple’s foyer, hand-in-hand; as it was Odin’s Day, there were a fair number of people present, but they paid them—and the whispers among those people who recognized her and Hiccup—no mind.  Instead, her other hand gripping the package of incense that she’d bought before coming, along with her other offerings, they went out into the sacred grove, leaving behind them a growing cloud of whispers and gossip.  She heard her name, her family’s name, and Hiccup’s, along with other comments, but they were cut off as the door shut behind them. 

The massive ash tree at the center sheltered the grove, while other trees surrounded it.  Small stones laid out paths through the grove, leading to the various statues of the Aesir and Vanir which stood sheltered below the various trees.  The bonfire for Samhain was already being assembled atop a large paved area nearby, and she waved politely to the men carefully stacking the wood.

She and Hiccup walked through the grove; the leaves were starting to change color, and she felt more of her anxiety fade away in the midst of the beauty and serenity of the grove.  She was here with her love to give thanks, nothing more. 

As they passed Thor’s grove, Hiccup paused and turned down that path.  Grabbing a nearby ladder kept handy for the purpose, he used it to climb up into the branches of the oak tree as she steadied it.  Then he hung a small offering to the Thunderer from a string—a cookie the size of Stoick’s hand, shaped and decorated like Thor’s hammer.  Hiccup had spent over an hour making it, and she felt nothing but love as she watched him place his offering, especially knowing that inside the cookie was a piece of paper with a handwritten prayer.  She didn’t know what it said exactly, but she knew that it was a request for justice and protection… on her behalf.

There were other offerings hanging from the various branches; she watched one of the temple ravens snack on a cluster of fruit hanging from another branch as Hiccup climbed back down. 

They shared a smile and a brief kiss before moving on.

As they walked along the meandering paths, a small hunched figure came along from the other direction, and Astrid froze as the Gothi saw the two of them.  Walking along with her staff, she came up and examined the pair of them inscrutably. 

Astrid felt her heart pounding as the elder priestess circled around them.  But then she smiled, nodded, and scratched something onto the pavement stone before reaching up to pat her on the cheek, and then she moved on.

Hiccup was looking at the runes scratched onto the stone. 

“What does it say?” Astrid asked quietly, not wanting to raise her voice and disturb the grove’s serenity. 

Hiccup blushed.  “Freyja and Frigga bless you in all the ways that a woman can be blessed.”

Astrid smiled.  “I have been.  And that’s why we’re here.”

They moved on, and found Freyja’s meadow, filled with beds of flowers surrounding the image of the goddess; they were starting to die back, but the space was still beautiful.  One of the temple cats stood nearby, and watched them for a moment, before vanishing into the underbrush. 

Astrid found a raised paving stone in front of the image of the goddess and, her hands trembling, opened the bag and brought out the coils of incense that she’d bought.  Placing them gently on the stone, she lit them with a match from the bag.  The scents of her mingled incense offering rose up into the air, and she bowed in prayer. 

_Thank you for your gifts, great lady of Valhalla.  I shall not squander them, but cherish them and appreciate them to the fullest.  I hope that the sounds of our joy have pleased you, and that you find my lover as beautiful as I do.  I give thanks to you for tying our hearts together._

Lying there, prostrate before the goddess, Astrid felt… at peace.

But they had more offerings to distribute, and, with Hiccup’s help, she rose and they went to Frigga’s portion of the grove.  Having lit her offerings, she bowed as the scents rose with the tendrils of smoke.  Here, though, she didn’t know what to say to the goddess.  It felt… wrong to thank her for the blessing of fertility, when Astrid didn’t even know if she was going to keep the baby or not.  And even if they were essentially living as husband and wife, she and Hiccup were not yet married, and could not be, thanks to her father’s machinations. 

But there was one thing that Astrid could thank her for.

_Blessed lady, thank you for guiding my steps to him.  You see far and see much, and while I do not yet know the end of our saga, I thank you for setting it in motion with your foresight and wisdom._

Rising, the two of them moved on.  From there, they went through the rest of the grove, stopping at Odin’s shrine, at the foot of the sacred ash.  Other worshipers were already there, and the branches whispered with the light clatter of the closely grouped offerings, swaying in the wind.  This time, Hiccup held the ladder for her first, and she rose to place their offerings—more cookies, stamped with runes of thanks and gratitude.  Hiccup had made his into a miniature runestone, inscribed with a short poem about the love between Odin and Frigga. 

Together, they bowed and prayed. 

Astrid didn’t know what to say to the All-Father, but she gave him her gratitude anyway, and hoped that his sight saw happiness in her future.

Eventually, they rose and left.  Returning to the foyer, they sat in front of the hearthfire for several minutes, warming up from the autumn chill outside, the chair cozy and warm—especially with the two of them cuddling in it.  Some people were eyeing them as subtly as they could manage and making hushed comments to each other, but she was doing her best to ignore them.

Then there was an angry hiss and Hiccup stiffened.  She turned and looked, to see her mother standing nearby, looking at the two of them in fury.  Then she marched over as Astrid felt her heart sink.  Here it came…

But then the Gothi was there, blocking her mother’s path with her staff, and angrily pointing to the runes above the door.  Astrid couldn’t read them, but she knew what they said—this was the gods’ own hall, and hospitality was paramount between their guests.  But that didn’t protect against words—only violence.

After a moment’s glare, her mother nodded and, stepping around Gothi, approached the two of them at the hearthfire. 

She urged Hiccup up out of the chair, and they rose, but not before her mother reached them.  But before her parent could say anything, Astrid said harshly, “Unless you’re going to give the gossipmongers something to chew on, I don’t think that you have anything to say to us.”  She nodded pointedly to the watchers clustered around the room, eagerly watching to see what happened.  “Because just _imagine_ what they’ll say about a shouting match at temple, _Mother_.”  Then her eyes narrowed.  “ _Do_ you have anything to say?”

“I suppose that I don’t.  Not here,” Mrs Hofferson said, eyes narrowed in response. 

“Good.”  She pulled Hiccup away from her, and briefly made eye contact as they passed.  And then Astrid saw something that made her eyes widen.  Nearly perfectly concealed under extensive makeup, there was hints of bruising all across her mother’s left cheek. 

Astrid reflexively touched the fading bruise on her own cheek, likewise concealed under makeup, and then hurried Hiccup away.

Finding Ma Kosti in the small temple kitchen, talking animately with one of the staff, they settled in to wait for her to finish. 

Astrid kept returning to the image of that bruise on her mother.  She knew that her father hit them both, but it was still a sobering reminder that, despite all of her complicity… her mother was as much a victim as Astrid was.

She shivered, and, thinking of her offering to Odin, dangling in the grove, she made an oath to herself.

For the child growing in her belly, or for any children that might come after, _she would not let herself turn into her own parents._

“Hiccup?” she whispered.

“Yeah?”

“I know that I sometimes jokingly punch you ‘to communicate’.  I don’t _ever_ want to do that ever again.  If I ever do it again, call me out on it.”

He cocked his head.  “But I don’t mind.  You don’t hit me hard enough to hurt, and—”

“Hiccup.  _Please._   I _don’t_ want to get used to the idea of hitting the people I love.  _Please.”_   She sniffed.  “Help me.”

She felt him slump.  “Okay.”

She pulled herself tighter against him, and trembled, even as she swore to herself that the only marks she ever left on Hiccup’s skin would be made in love and passion, with his joyous consent… not in rage and fury, with him cringing in fear.

She would be a better person than the people who made her.

She _would._

#

The sound of the stand mixer came from the kitchen as Hiccup and Astrid came down the stairs.  After they’d gotten back from the temple, Astrid had fled upstairs, and he’d held her as she dealt with it all.  They hadn’t made love, though; for once, neither of them were in the mood.  Instead, they’d talked.  About the gods, about their childhoods, about politics—where she was wonderfully well-informed, and he’d spent twenty minutes just listening to her explain some things about Parliament that he was confused by—about the movies they’d watched, where he’d given her more background on the various heroes and villains. 

Ma Kosti looked up as they entered the kitchen.  “Doing alright, you two?”

Astrid nodded.  “Feeling better, yeah.”  She pulled herself up into one of the breakfast barstools.  “Anything we can help with?”

“Oh, certainly,” Ma Kosti said with a solemn nod and a significant look to Hiccup.  “I’ve got some bread dough going, but I was about to start a pot of stew, some pasta salad, creamed potatoes, fish quiche and a batch of rumbledethumps.  They’re for the Hepburns.”

Hiccup winced; he knew what that combination meant.  “Who?”

“Their grandmother, Effie.  Passed early this morning.  Cancer.  She fought to the last,” Ma Kosti said.

Hiccup cocked his head in recollection and then nodded, remembering an ornery, stubborn old lady with a fondness for hounds.  She’d liked Toothless a lot at the dog park.  “Odin and Freyja are no doubt arguing over who gets to have her for their hall.”

“Oh,” Astrid said.  “I remember her.  She’s… gone?”

Ma Kosti nodded.  “And I offered to make the food for the family.”

“We’ll help,” Astrid said, and slid back off the stool.  “What do we need?” she asked, as she went over to the pantry. 

Ma Kosti started listing off ingredients, and Hiccup joined Astrid in the pantry to gather the ingredients. 

As they worked—Astrid peeling potatoes, Hiccup dicing vegetables, and Ma Kosti orchestrating it all as she worked the stovetop—they talked.

“Technically, I’m the temple’s social coordinator,” she told Astrid, who had asked.  “But in effect, I’m the chief gopher, organizer, cook and minion-wrangler.”

“‘Gopher’?” Astrid asked.  “You don’t look like a small burrowing rodent.”

“Heh.  Go for this, go-for that,” Ma Kosti said with a grin.  “It’s not a glamorous job, but it keeps a roof over my head, and keeps me occupied, and gives me plenty of time to keep an eye on Henry.”

“And gives her a free minion when needed,” Hiccup said, deadpan, and then looked down.  Toothless had appeared and was giving him hopeful looks.  “Hey, Ma Kosti, I’ve got some trimmings here from the meat.  Can I…?”

She laughed.  “Of course.  And let Astrid have some fun, too.”

Hiccup grinned and picked up a long, skinny piece of beef and gristle.  Toothless instantly came to attention—and then Hiccup tossed it up in the air. 

Toothless leapt off the floor and snagged it in midair.

Happy chomping and chewing noises resulted, while Hiccup took the meat cubes over to the frying pan.  Astrid giggled as she watched, and then Hiccup handed her another piece. 

Once Toothless was done, she caught his attention quickly, and tossed the meat towards the door.  With a flurry of nails on tile, Toothless caught it and settled in for a long chew. 

They all laughed. 

“Toothless is a good boy,” Astrid said, grinning.

“You mean that he’s a good boy _now,_ ” Hiccup said.  “Once, he was _very_ naughty.”

“Oh?” Astrid asked with a grin.

Ma Kosti snorted.  “Hiccup, that was at _least_ half your fault.”

“Which one were you thinking of?  Because I was thinking of that pot-roast,” Hiccup said with a grin, remembering the dumb doggy grin that Toothless had given him from atop this very countertop, the entirety of the roast having vanished down his gullet when Hiccup had been eleven. 

“The sausage-links,” Ma Kosti said with a grin.

Hiccup groaned, then laughed helplessly, and then dramatically turned to pound his head on the wall. 

“Oh, this one I’ve got to hear,” Astrid said with relish. 

“There was a temple cookout when I was twelve,” Hiccup said, “and Snotlout and I were playing catch with Toothless and Hookfang.  But I was also helping Ma Kosti and Dad with the grilling, and they called me to get them some more sausages.  But I was in a hurry to get back to playing with my cousin…”

“So… he _throws_ the coil of sausage links to me in his eagerness to get back to his game,” Ma Kosti said, “but before I could even try to catch them before they hit the ground, there’s this pair of blurs in mid-air, one red, one black, and Hookfang and Toothless are hightailing away with their prizes.”

Hiccup laughed, remembering how his cousin’s Irish Setter and Toothless had run off to scarf their strings of purloined meat in full view of an entire crowd of hungry people.  At the time, it hadn’t been nearly as funny for him.

Astrid was laughing as she continued to peel the vegetables.  “You _did_ train them to grab anything in midair, Hiccup.”

He stuck his tongue out at her.  “Yeah, I know.  And I had to pay for the sausages out of my allowance.”

“At least you got the wholesaler price,” Ma Kosti said with a smirk. 

“I would say that it was the most expensive dog food he’s ever been fed, but that would be a lie,” Hiccup said, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh?” Astrid asked.

“Yeah, when he was a puppy, he managed to sneak off with a side of imported smoked Italian pork as big as he was,” Hiccup said, shaking his head and remembering the scene.  “He’d eaten half of it by the time I found him.”

“And that one was my fault,” Ma Kosti said with an eyeroll.  “So we let him have the rest of it for dinner, and he gnawed on that hambone for months.”

Toothless finished the piece of meat that Astrid had tossed him, and looked up eagerly. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes and tossed Toothless another treat from the pot.  “That’s the last one before dinner, okay, bud?”

Toothless gave him a big doggy grin, and Hiccup knew that he would be helpless to resist later, but trying to stand up now made him feel better. 

#

As Hiccup shut off the tap, Astrid unwrapped the small package that had finally arrived in the mail.  Their robes were hanging on the wall hooks, there was a stack of towels on the floor and they had the cleaning supplies that they’d need… plus another new bottle that had come in a different package, just in case.  So she cheerfully held up the pink Lush bath bomb.  “Do you want to do it or should I?”

Hiccup grinned, and she felt herself bask in the warmth of that smile.  “You do it.  I’ve been taking baths in this tub since as long as I can remember.  But for you, it’s special.  I want to watch you enjoy it.”

She bent over, kissed him, and then dropped the bath bomb into the steaming water.  They watched it hiss for a moment, and then she helped Hiccup remove his leg and get into the tub.  While the railings along the side were there for him to do exactly that, having her there to steady him helped immensely. 

Once he was settled—and his eyes raking over her naked body with appreciation, making her smile—she joined him.  Then Hiccup hit the jets switch, and they both sighed in appreciation as the water began to foam.

“I love this,” Astrid declared, sinking into the water until just her face was above the surface.  “Hiccup, I love our new bed, but I’m going to sleep here, ‘kay?”

“You’ll be a giant prune in an hour,” he said with a smirk.

“I’m fine with this,” she said airily, and shifted slightly to allow one of the jets to work on her spine. 

Hiccup chortled and then quieted.  And the two of them sat there in the tub for a minute.  Then Hiccup spoke up.  “So, Ast?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“At school… how do you want to act?”

She turned slightly to look at him.  “What do you mean?”

“Well…” he shifted uncomfortably.  “We have to not give them an excuse to expel us.  And I looked over the student handbook, and while it’s not terrible, technically any public display of affection could be enough.”  He grimaced and then sighed. 

She nodded.  “Yeah… and I’ve been thinking on it too.  And I realized something.  Well, a few things.  First, that’s my father’s nuclear option.  Because, right now, if he got us expelled, he’d lose his last lever on us.  He’ll want to keep that option in play for as long as possible if he has _any_ hope of… of getting me back under his thumb.  So we have some wiggle room.”

Hiccup looked at her, appalled.  “I hadn’t thought of it like that.”

“I’m betting that your dad has.  And we shouldn’t take it as permission, either.  Now that my father has set it up that way, someone else might still pull the trigger.”  She shrugged, but the motion was lost in the jets’ agitation of the water.  “At the same time, while _as far as I know_ nobody’s gotten away with sex on the school grounds, if they single us out for punishment after I’ve seen Cami literally sit on Tuffnut’s lap in the lunch hall and make out with him, your dad could tie them up in legal knots for bias faster than Snotlout could hit on someone.”

Hiccup looked thoughtful.  “Point.”

“All that being said… in answer to your question…” she sighed, and said, “Holding hands, minimal kissing, no groping, light hugging.”  She pursed her lips.  “We have a bedroom here at home where we can be affectionate… and more… all we want.”

Hiccup nodded and said, “Well, not quite just like old times, but we’re back on familiar ground.”

She slumped under the water a bit more.  “I know, and I’m sorry.  But it won’t be as bad as the old days, promise.  We _will_ be together.  Just… politely.  So we don’t give diabetes to anyone around us.”

Hiccup snorted at that.  “Oh, we haven’t been that bad… have we?”

She gave him a flat look, and then snorted.  “Hiccup, if we were any more sappy, we’d smell like fresh pine.”

“That’s a good resin,” Hiccup said earnestly.

She groaned and then replied, “That’s enough needling.”

“Fir what?” he replied cheekily.

“Oh, let’s knot get started,” she said, holding back laughter.

“Seems to me that we might need to get to the root of the problem to do that,” he said, smirking.

“Cone we just stop?” she said, giving into the laughter.

“I don’t be-leaf so,” he said, joining in with chortles of his own.

They laughed together, and she ended up coming up out of the water a bit to keep from inhaling any of it.  The two of them were leaning up against one another, and she could feel her pulse thrum against his skin…

And he looked so kissable…

She started to lean towards him… and then pulled back.  That damn bet…

He looked like he was about to start things, though, and they held each other’s eyes for another minute before relaxing back into the tub.  But it was so very hard to keep from grabbing the bottle of silicon-based lube from the rack where they’d put it, just in case, prepping herself, and mounting him right here in the tub. 

But at this point, it wasn’t the forfeit that was keeping her going.  She was going to _win,_ dammit! 

And she kept telling herself that, and she believed it… even if she did end up dragging him to bed as soon as their feet crossed the threshold of their bedroom and screwing his brains out. 

The mingled sweat and bathwater drying on her skin after they were done just made her laugh to herself.  They would be showering in the morning, that was for sure.  Good thing that the bath had been for relaxation, not hygiene. 

She snuggled in closer and, with his arms wrapped around her chest, his hands gently cupping her breasts, they drifted off to sleep, at peace.

* * *

 

**AN: A thought I had: If you want a spot in the “Kick Mr Hofferson” line, PM me on Tumblr and we’ll see about inserting you as a cameo into the story somewhere.  No promises, but while I’ve got most of the story outlined by this point, there’s still wiggle room and gaps, and it’ll keep me from having to raid any more Disney movies to flesh out the cast, and we’re just about to head back to school anyway, and while my antagonists there are planned, I could easily add more to the student body or staff. :D**   
  
**This chapter’s rec is Not One Of Them, by ** _ShipMistress_ **.  Modern AU, Hiccstrid, featuring lots n’ lots of angst, fluff, and smut.  Hiccup is an emotionally illiterate playboy and artist, and lives with his best friend and co-worker, Astrid… who wants him, but doesn’t want to be One Of Them, the casual flings that Hiccup has and moves on from.  The subtitle is very dead-on: Everyone is stupid! (or at least an emotional idiot)… but they manage to make it work in the end.**

 

 


	23. Chapter 21: When You Feel My Heat

**Chapter 21: When You Feel My Heat**

Thursday morning saw Hiccup and Astrid helping Ma Kosti with more Samhain preparations.  With the holy day only eleven days away, things were kicking into high gear—and Ma Kosti was taking cheerful advantage of having two minions. 

Not that they minded.  Relaxed and mellow after a quickie when they’d woken up, followed by an intimate shower, he and Astrid… well, he couldn’t stop bursting into smiles at the joy and light in her eyes as they baked together with his mentor.  It helped that Astrid’s morning sickness seemed to be passing, and she was cheerfully snacking down on whatever they were baking as the whim hit her—although Ma Kosti was only letting her eat the finished cookies, and not the raw dough, because of the raw eggs in them. 

Toothless padded into the kitchen just as they were putting more cookies onto the cooling racks, and Ma Kosti pointed her spoon, covered in oatmeal cookie dough, at him.  “Oh, no you don’t.  Not after last year.”

“What happened last year?” Astrid asked, grinning and tossing Toothless a doggie treat from the countertop pot. 

“We called it… Gross Dog Poo,” Hiccup said as pretentiously as he could.

Astrid rolled her eyes, followed by a smirk.  “Really?  That’s the best you could come up with?”

“Given that Toothless knocked twelve dozen oatmeal cookies to the floor, ate them all in under two minutes, and then spent the next four days constipated…” Ma Kosti said with a laugh, “I challenge you to come up with a better name!”

Astrid’s eyes grew very wide.  “Twelve dozen cookies?”

“Yep.  A full gross,” Hiccup confirmed.  “And then he had to go and poop practically every ten minutes.  For _four_ days.  I ended up staying outside with him overnight one of the nights, rather than risking dog poo on my bed.  Again.”

Astrid burst out into peals of laughter.  “Oh, gods, that’s _terrible!”_   She knelt and rubbed at Toothless’ head.  “You wouldn’t do that again, would you?”

“Oh yes he would,” Ma Kosti said tartly.  “My chocolate-covered coffee beans have met with untimely ends on multiple occasions.  They make him _so_ hyper, and I don’t dare bring them with me anymore.  This is one pooch who doesn’t learn his food-related lessons.”

“Isn’t chocolate poisonous to dogs?” Astrid asked, concerned.

“Depends on the dose—and Toothless is a _very_ big dog and those were small packets of beans,” Hiccup said, tossing another doggie treat to his bud, who caught it and scarfed it down as Ma Kosti muttered something about _expensive small packets_.  “Still doesn’t mean that we’re going to take the risk.”

There was a knock at the door, and the three of them exchanged looks.  “Were we expecting anyone?” Ma Kosti asked.

Hiccup shook his head.  “Nope.”

“Hmm…  I’ll get it, then,” Ma Kosti said, and went to the door.

Hiccup and Astrid peered around the corner as she opened it.  A man in the uniform of a package delivery service was holding a box. 

“What’s this?” Ma Kosti asked.

“Package for… Hiccup and Astrid Haddock,” the man said, checking his tablet.

Hiccup and Astrid shared astonished and confused looks as Ma Kosti coughed.  “I see.  Who is it from?”

The deliveryman hoisted the box so that she could see the shipping label, and then a moment later, she said, sounding baffled, “Henry, package for you.”

Hiccup cautiously emerged from around the corner and approached.  The deliveryman looked bored and impatient, but he didn’t _seem_ to be the vanguard for a snatch-squad out of some Hollywood blockbuster. 

Taking the proffered stylus, he scrawled his signature onto the tablet and was handed the box, which was a good forty centimeters long, at least.  He peered at the shipping label as the deliveryman left and returned to his truck, and relaxed a bit when he saw that it was from a major online retailer. 

Astrid came up cautiously as Hiccup turned and Ma Kosti closed the door behind them.  “What is it?”

“A box,” Hiccup said with an innocent smile to cover up his confusion.

Astrid rolled her eyes.  “Smartass.  What’s _in_ the box?”

“Stuff.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.  “Any idea what kind of _stuff?”_

“Stuff that goes into boxes, clearly.”

Ma Kosti and Astrid shared a look and rolled their eyes together.

“You’re in love with him,” Ma Kosti pointed out.

“You raised him,” Astrid responded.

Hiccup cackled and took the box into the kitchen.  Getting a carton slitter from the drawer, he opened the box as Ma Kosti and Astrid stood by, curious. 

Then he flipped open the cardboard flaps—and got a brief glimpse of what was inside, making him hastily close it.

But it was too late.

Ma Kosti’s eyes widened.

Astrid stared for a moment, before reaching out like a striking snake and tried to pull the box back open.  “Was that—”

“No!” he said, struggling to keep the box closed as Ma Kosti tried desperately to keep herself from laughing.

“Let me see!” Astrid demanded cheerfully.  “It was addressed to me, too!”  She tried pulling at the box itself, only to have Hiccup practically lay himself down on it and try to hold it in place and closed.  They had a tug of war for a few moments, and then, with a near-feral growl, Astrid got a firm grip on the sides of the box and _pulled._

But rather than yanking it out from under Hiccup, she only half-succeeded—and the box tore and scattered its contents all over the countertop and the floor.

Ma Kosti lost her fight against uproarious laughter as packaged sex toys—including a bright purple dildo that was the length and _size_ of Hiccup’s forearm—were strewn across the kitchen counter and floor.

Hiccup looked down at the carnage, and whimpered—and then Toothless, curious, padded over.  Before anyone could stop him, he grabbed the plastic-encased giant purple dong and proceeded to gnaw at it. 

Astrid, who was turning bright red with laughter, ducked down and proceeded to gather up the ‘stuff’ from the floor.  There was a brief wrestling match with Toothless, but he was easily bribed with a cookie into giving up his prize before he damaged the plastic clamshell packaging.

Hiccup just whimpered as his girlfriend cheerfully emptied the box, laying out onto the countertop various vibrators, half a dozen dildos of various shapes and sizes—including the giant one, clearly modeled on a horse, only _purple_ —a _large_ bottle of lube, and several other things that he couldn’t even identify… all in front of his mother-figure, who was holding herself up off the floor by leaning heavily on the countertop, her face red from laughter. 

Astrid then plucked a piece of paper out of the remains of the box and grinned.  “Ah ha!  It’s from Cami, Tuff, and Ruff.  Apology for taking the picture and spreading it last week, plus… ahem, ‘starter kit’, as Cami put it.”

Hiccup’s traitorous mouth reacted almost on reflex.  “‘Start-her’?  I think that I can get you going without help.”

There was a thud behind him, and he whirled to see that Ma Kosti had slipped to the floor, practically bawling with laughter, tears streaming from her eyes.

Astrid chuckled as he went and helped Ma Kosti up.  “Hmm…”

“What?”

“Oh, just getting… _ideas.”_ Astrid, holding a small box labeled as being something that vibrated, gave him a significant look up and down that made Ma Kosti break out into renewed giggles. 

“If you two want to go… _horse around_ with your new toys, feel free,” Ma Kosti said with a wheezing laugh as she hauled herself back to her feet. 

Hiccup had flushed to the roots of his hair and his ears felt like they could touch-ignite matches.  Only Cami and the twins could manage to prank _with an apology for prior pranks._

“No, I think we’re good… for now,” Astrid said, giving Hiccup a look that made him flush for a different reason. 

Hiccup couldn’t help himself, and neighed—like a horse.

Both Astrid and Ma Kosti practically fell over laughing.

Then the timer beeped, and Astrid yelped, “The cookies!”

The three of them leapt back into action, getting the cookies out of the oven and putting in a fresh pan’s worth to bake. 

Hiccup went into the pantry and got a basket, and unceremoniously dumped all of their new sex toys into it—although his eyes got wide when he saw the small boxes containing leather cuffs, a blindfold and a ring gag. 

For a brief moment, he wondering what the literal _fuck_ Cami and Tuffnut got up to…

And then the image of _Astrid_ wearing those items—and nothing else—came to mind and he moaned softly in the back of his throat as his dick stirred in his pants.  He thought that he was quiet, but then there was a soft touch on his arm, and he turned to see Astrid giving a critical eye at the contents of the basket. 

“So, what do you want to try first?” she asked cheerfully. 

Hiccup glanced helplessly towards Ma Kosti, who was standing _right there,_ and tried to will away his nascent erection—and then Astrid smirked and said, “Here, I got it.”  She took the basket and, whistling cheerfully, carried it off to the stairs and up to their bedroom.

As the floor above creaked slightly, Ma Kosti was still breaking out into random chuckles, but managed to eventually say, “Oh, this is going to make for a _good_ Hiccup Tale.”

Hiccup sighed and started to laugh helplessly.  “What would you call it?”

“I’m thinking… ‘A Cocky Moment’,” Ma Kosti said with an evil grin.

Hiccup looked down and, despite himself, chuckled. 

Astrid reappeared, striding in confidently with a giant grin.  She walked up to him to enfold him in a hug and give him a—by their standards—chaste kiss. 

“What was that for?” he asked with a smile.

“Being you,” she answered sweetly. 

There was a sudden victorious cough from the side, and Hiccup turned to see Ma Kosti holding up her phone, having clearly just taken a picture of the two of them.  She grinned, and they all laughed and got back to baking.

#

Munching on a fresh cookie, Astrid laid herself down across the couch—and Hiccup—in the lounge, ready for another movie.  Ma Kosti had left a little while ago to go deliver meals to some elders, and had cheerfully wished them a _fun_ afternoon.

And they were certainly set for a good afternoon—they had stacks of cookies, a bottle of caffeine-free cola, popcorn, and crisps on the table, along with a bag of doggie treats for Toothless, who was snoozing nearby. 

Also, Astrid had pocketed a small thing from the gifts that had arrived this morning.  While she still planned on winning their bet, if Hiccup cracked with her lying on him during the movie, she wanted to give the intriguing device a try. 

As the menu screen for Iron Man 3 came up on the screen, she sighed happily against her lover, smirked, and then said, “So, let me get this straight so far.  We have a world kinda like ours, but instead of the UN or NATO or whatever, there’s this big shadowy transnational security organization called SHIELD, which seems to be mostly concerned with Americans, but can go anywhere in the world with few problems, has superheroes working for it, and the total amount of their civilian oversight is a council that thinks nuking New York City is a reasonable idea?”

“Well, there _were_ aliens invading,” Hiccup pointed out reasonably. 

“Fuck that,” she said tartly.  “You can tell that this was written by and for Americans.  The idea that there could actually be a functional transnational organization like this, it’s, it’s…”

“Pure fantasy?” Hiccup asked with a smirk.  “Like something out of a comic book?”

“YES!” she said, exasperated.

Hiccup laughed.  “Love… I hate to break it to you, but…” he leaned in close and whispered in her ear, “that’s where they got it from.”

She scowled, and tried to ignore the frisson of heat in her belly that came from Hiccup’s proximity to her ear.  His tongue and teeth felt so wonderful when he nibbled and licked on her earlobe and she was starting to get wet just at the memory…

No! 

She was going to win this bet—even if she was tempted to jump him right now and get the sex toy out of the pocket of her leggings. 

Even if the image of the two of them on the couch, wrapped together, his hands stroking her breasts as his mouth worked on her neck and his cock inside her came to her mind’s eye…

She groaned and pushed the image away.  “I suppose,” she said grumpily.  “But power corrupts, and with zero oversight and that kind of hair-trigger, the whole damn thing feels vaguely fascist to me.  Power without restraint.  Rich moguls working directly with government.  Control and suspicion, like what they did to Thor and Mjolnir.  And always the hunt for a bigger stick and more power.”  She crossed her arms and scowled.  “Sure, Tony and Fury seem like decent guys now, but if they change their minds, what’s to keep them from becoming dictators?”

Hiccup gave her a small smile and then kissed her cheek before sitting back and hitting play. 

“What?”

He continued to smile at her. 

She grumpily folded her arms and stuck her tongue out at him before settling herself into his lap.  She didn’t grind against him, though—that would count as starting things and would cost her the bet. 

That being said, she could feel his erection stirring under his sweatpants anyway…

But Hiccup somehow managed to control himself and they settled in to watch the movie. 

They watched, and Astrid had to roll her eyes or occasionally huff at some of the plot points.  “Did he _really_ just challenge the Big Bad Guy to a fight and give his address?”

“Yep,” Hiccup said with a smirk, his hand _awfully_ close to cupping her breast under her t-shirt (newly purchased from Glasgow, and reading ‘I (pixilated-heart) My Geek’).  “But it’s _Tony._ ”

“Point.  For a genius, he’s a real idiot.”

Hiccup snorted and they continued to watch.  She cheered as Pepper got to wear the armor, and managed to lose herself in the film… almost.

That mood came to a screeching halt when the bad guy was revealed—the insincere-seeming and very photogenic scientist.  And she reflexively flinched away from the man that resembled a slightly older version of her father screaming in rage. 

Hiccup instantly paused the movie.  “You okay?”

She shook in his lap.  “No.”

He wrapped his arms around her and made comforting noises as she buried her face into his chest.  Taking deep breaths, she clenched a fist around his shirt and breathed deep.  It was just a movie… she was safe…

She slumped from her tension and then relaxed.  “I’m okay.”

“Do you want to stop?” Hiccup asked, concerned.

She shook her head.  “No.  Just… just answer me one thing?”

“Of course.”

“Does he get his ass royally kicked to kingdom come?” she asked, pointing at the frozen image of the villain.

Hiccup smiled and kissed her forehead.  “Oh boy does he ever.”

“Then I want to see that,” she said, and they turned back to watch. 

They continued to watch, and while there were a few moments that were harder for her to handle… the payoff was worth it, as Pepper _again_ saved Tony Stark’s ass. 

As the credits rolled, she slumped against Hiccup. 

“Are you okay?” he asked softly.

She nodded.  “Yeah.  I’m just… just…”  She trailed off, not knowing how to express herself and what she was feeling. 

But there was a growing sense of shame deep inside her at the moment of weakness she’d just shown.  Gods, was she so _broken_ that an actor screaming on a television screen was enough to make her freak out?  How pathetic—

Hiccup held her tight and started to rock her back and forth, and she realized that she’d just trailed off and looked away from him. 

“Hey… hey… hey…” he breathed into her ear.  “It’s okay.”

“Hiccup…” she protested softly, “How can you say that?  I’m broken…”

He breathed into her hair and said, “So am I, remember?”

“You’re not broken,” she said softly.  “Your dad loves you.  My father treats me like—”

“Like you’re a rebellious piece of himself that needs to be brought into line?” Hiccup suggested. 

She blinked in surprise at the astute observation—and then sighed as Hiccup kissed her neck gently before saying into her ear, “Ast.  I don’t want to play Can You Top This.  But I’m broken _too_.”  He took her hand and placed it on his left calf—the plastic one.  “Remember?  Lost my leg and my mom in the same accident, and been a cripple since I was six?”

Her eyes widened as the depth of the insult she’d just given him sank in—telling the guy who was _missing his leg_ that his trauma wasn’t real?  “I…  oh, gods, Hiccup, I didn’t mean—”

He silenced her with a kiss and then quickly broke it before it escalated.  “I’m not offended, Ast.  What I’m _trying_ to say is that… is that…”  He sucked in a deep breath, making his chest heave against her, “is that I _get_ what you mean by being broken.  _Both_ of us know what is to have a parent look at us like someone skimped on the meat in their sandwich.”  His voice deepened into a mocking imitation of his father’s accent.  “‘Excuse me, barmaid, I’m afraid you brought me the wrong offspring!  I ordered an extra-large boy with beefy arms, extra guts, and glory on the side!  This here, this is a talking fish-bone!’”  Then he shifted into an exaggerated parody of her father’s most unctuous tones.  “‘Pardon me, dear waiter, but I didn’t order this child.  I requested a completed set of a frilly girly-girl with ribbons and lace, and a macho-boy with a cocky walk and brains to match.  But this is a gutsy, thinky girl instead!  What am I supposed to do with this?’”

She blinked.  “Hiccup…?”

“Astrid… I _get_ it. Why do you think we fit together so well?”  He gently started stroking her back.  “Because… as much as we’re different… we’re also so much alike,” he said softly.  “I didn’t have it as bad as you did with the screaming and the abuse from your father… but you didn’t have it as bad as I did with knowing that I could _never_ be the child that my dad wanted.”

“But your dad… he’s… he’s been so supportive…” she protested, confused.

He shrugged.  “And it’s been weirding me out.  I haven’t gotten a single lecture on how I’ve disappointed him since you got here.  Hel, we’ve actually _talked_ more this past week than we really have this whole _year_.  But my point is, I _get_ it.  We’re _both_ so broken… but together, we _fix_ each other.”

“I… I…” she stammered as his words hit home, and her heart thudded in her chest with pain and love. 

“We’re both broken, Ast.  There’s no point in trying to say which of us had it worst, because they were both bad.  I didn’t have to go through your father’s abuse… and you didn’t have to go through being treated as some kind of freak by all of the other kids.”  He took both of her hands in his, and placed one on each of their hearts.  “But we both had to live with being a _disappointment.”_

She looked him in the eyes, and saw that same pain there… and the same love and hope and desire that she felt in her heart mirrored there.

And she kissed him. 

Almost before she even realized what she was doing, she was kissing him like she was drowning and he was air itself.  She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed him to herself, and as she ran her tongue over his lips, requesting entrance, she distantly realized that she had lost the bet, and didn’t care one bit.

Because she was also realizing one other thing, as a memory of Hiccup’s words from the other day came to mind.

_I looked at him… and I saw myself._

Their wounds might not be identical… but they both carried them nonetheless.

And he’d bared his to her for this moment of understanding. 

The competitive part of her groused about losing the bet as she tried to climb deeper into his lap—somehow—and started to pull off his shirt, but the small bit of the rest of herself that wasn’t occupied with Hiccup hushed it.  There would be other bets, and a forfeit was a small price to pay…

No.

A forfeit was a wonderful _gift_ that she could give to the man that she loved.

As she flung his shirt off into a random direction in the room, she kissed his neck and his collarbone, making him moan.  Her handiwork—or should that be her lipiwork?  No, that just didn’t have the same ring to it—still littered his skin, although many of the love bites were fading to yellow by now.  She renewed one of them, practically gnawing on his skin and prompting a heated moan next to her ear that seemed to travel straight to her own groin.  His cock, underneath his boxers and sweats, gave a heroic twitch, and she had a momentary absurd image of her dripping to the point where not only her panties and leggings would be soaked through, but so would his clothes. 

Well, they couldn’t have that…

She broke the kiss and whispered huskily in his ear, “You won the bet…”

He groaned lustily as she started to tug down his sweats and sassed, “You don’t say…”

She snorted and said, “Do you want your forfeit now… or later?”

“Later…” he breathed, his eyes wide and staring at her. 

“Alright.”  Her panties and leggings were getting tangled in their legs, and, with a brief grunt and a sense of loss, she pulled herself free of him, and quickly and efficiently slipped herself free of her clothes.  Then, with shaky hands, she retrieved the toy from the leggings’ pocket as Hiccup pulled his own sweats off. 

“What’s that?” Hiccup asked as she fiddled with it.

She found the button—really more of a smoothed bump—and pressed it, and the toy buzzed to life in her hands.  “One of our new toys,” she said with a smile.  “Want to?”

He eyed it hesitantly.  “Uhhh…”

“You don’t have to… but I want to try it,” she said softly, and bent down to kiss him.  A moment later, she was again seated in his lap, his cock pushing up against her folds and clit, the two of them trading heated kisses as their naked chests rubbed against each other, her nipples feeling hard like rocks and sliding across his skin with delicious friction, the toy still buzzing in her hand.

He broke the kiss and said heatedly, “Let’s try it.”

“You sure?”

He nodded. 

With a grin, she pulled back just far enough to get access to his cock—and slipped the vibrating cock ring onto it and down, to fit snugly at the base.

Hiccup’s eyes got _very_ wide for a moment and he said in a much more high pitched voice than normal, “That’s… that’s _interesting._ ”

“Bad?  I can take it back off—”

“No, no, I’m good,” he said, sounding like he was about to start giggling or something.  “But… oh… that’s so _strange…”_

She grinned mischievously at him, said cheerfully, “I want to feel!” and promptly grasped hold of him.  He grunted as she guided him to her entrance, and sank down on him without another word.

They both moaned in appreciation, and Astrid felt the vibrations on her clit almost instantly, making her go cross-eyed with the stimulation. 

“Oh… that _is_ weird… but it feels so good…” she breathed. 

Hiccup reached down between them and twisted the ring around a bit—and then she almost shrieked in surprise and sudden stimulation as the bulge on the ring, which housed the actual vibrating part—touched her clit.

“Ohmygodsaaaahh,” she blurted out, and then, breathing heavily, she said sheepishly, “I think I put it to the highest setting by accident.”

Hiccup laughed, and they started to _move._

She moaned and clutched at him as they thrust together, her riding him on the couch; they shifted at one point so that he was laid out flat on the couch’s covering blanket, and an absurd part of Astrid’s mind noted absently that they’d need to wash it before Stoick got back. 

The rest of her was basking in finally having sex with Hiccup on the insanely comfortable couch—while using a sex toy, no less!  With the vibrating ring stimulating her clit, Hiccup having his hands on her breasts, massaging them and fondling the nipples with rubs and squeezes, each motion sending another bolt of arousal to her center, within a minute or two, it all combined together into the first of several climaxes.  She fell to pieces atop Hiccup, shuddering and gasping and giggling, the incredible stimulation pushing her right to the edge and then swan-diving over it. 

And then Hiccup, the lovely and adorable evil bastard that he was, did the equivalent of pushing her back into the water as soon as she climbed out.

As the first climax passed and the stars stopped bursting behind her eyes, she looked down to seeing Hiccup grinning up at her, only his tip still inside her.  “Good one?”

She nodded weakly, still overcome with both the intensity of it and how quickly she’d reached that peak.

“Good.”  And he promptly grasped her thighs and pulled her smartly down all the rest of the way onto his cock—and bringing her clit right back into contact with the vibrating ring.

Still sensitive from the first climax, she almost instantly had a second, her shriek of surprise and pleasure blurring together into something that vaguely resembled his name. 

Once she recovered from that one—or several that blurred together, she wasn’t sure—she glared half-heartedly at him, making him laugh, before they resumed thrusting together. 

Hiccup moaned that he was close, and, suddenly mindful of where they were, she pulled herself off of him—but before he could do more than ask what she was doing, she practically inhaled his cock, tasting of their mingled juices.  The cock ring made his shaft vibrate oddly and enjoyably against her lips, and she hummed against the head—which was enough to bring him the rest of the way to climax.

She drank him down with a smirk and a moan, and then, once he was dry, climbed up his lanky length to lie next to him. 

He wordlessly took the ring off of his softening dick and, after fiddling with it for a moment, found the off button. 

“That… that was good,” he said breathlessly as he put the toy on the coffee table—on a coaster, no less.

“Mmhm,” she agreed cheerfully against his bicep.  “I definitely want to try it again.”

“Definitely,” he said. 

They laid like that, appreciating the afterglow, until a thought occurred to Astrid.

“Hey, love?”

“Yeah?”

“How long had you been thinking about that bit?  That we’re both broken?”

He sat in silence for a minute.  “Months, really.”

“ _Months?_ ”

“Yeah.  Ever since I first saw your father put you down in front of me.  Remember?  ‘Oh, Astrid, good job!  I didn’t think that you could actually do it!’  And you just sat there and took it, and I first realized how bad it was for you.  But putting it all together like that?  This past week, really.  And it’s not like I planned it.  It just… came out.”

She smiled.  “And you _are_ the top student in Psych…”

He gave a self-effecting shrug.  “Well, that helped, yeah.”

She snuggled in closer.  “I love you.”

“Love you too,” he said, kissing the top of her head.  “And we’re in this together… partner.”

She nodded and smiled.  “Partner.”  Then, she smirked.  “So, what do you want for that forfeit?”

He grinned.  “Tell you later?  For now, do we want to watch another movie?”

She laughed.  “Maybe later.  For now, I want cuddles.”

Eventually, they got up, dressed, and watched Thor: The Dark World, but the movie didn’t really make that deep an impression on Astrid, aside from wanting to protest against the various liberties being taken with their gods—although she did love Loki’s character.  But running through her mind was Hiccup’s observation on how they were both broken…

And could fix each other.

One thing was for sure, she resolved to herself.  If anyone wanted to hurt Hiccup any more… they’d have to go through her.

* * *

_This chapter’s rec is **Walls We Build** by **katergator**.  Modern AU, College AU, Hiccstrid, with lots of sass, fluff and angst.  I only just found it last month and I plowed my way through it—twice!—since.  The plotting is superb, the sass hilarious, the angst and fluff delicious, Ruffnut is Chaotic Benevolent, and it has been a treat to read. _


	24. Chapter 22: Look Into My Eyes

**Chapter 22: Look Into My Eyes**

“I called it, didn’t I?” Astrid said with a smug tone. 

Hiccup rolled his eyes and tossed the couch cover to her.  “You did!”  They’d finished watching The Winter Soldier only a little while ago, and his lover was still crowing about having been right about the latent fascism of SHIELD. 

She grinned and spread out the cleaned couch cover.  They’d made love on it again since yesterday and it had _stank_ of their mingled sweat before they’d washed it.  And that wasn’t the only thing that they’d cleaned up; both the kitchen island countertop and the dining room table smelled of cleaning solution, and Hiccup had the windows open so that the smell would hopefully dissipate before Ma Kosti arrived and put two and two together. 

That being said, boy, was that table _sturdy_ …  and at just the right height, too…

The doorbell rang.

He looked at Astrid, suddenly worried, but she was smiling.  “Oh, good, they’re here,” she said, and made for the lounge’s door.

“You’re expecting someone?” he asked, relieved.

“Yep.  Heather and the rest.  They said that they’d be by at some point today,” she said.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” he asked, feeling slightly put out.

“First, because they only messaged me an hour or so ago, and second, because—” she peeked outside the door and nodded, before opening the door, “it’s a surprise!”

Heather, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, Cami, Merida, and Moana came in, the lot of them practically bouncing with glee, carrying boxes and what looked like garment bags. 

“What’s all this?” Hiccup asked, nonplussed.

“Samhain prep!” Heather said with a smirk.  “Didn’t Ast tell you?”

He shook his head.  “She mentioned something about you handling costumes but…”

“Well, here we are!”  She motioned to Tuffnut, whose black eyes had faded to yellow.  The other guy shrugged and handed Hiccup a black garment bag.

“We used Tuffnut as our model,” Heather said apologetically.  “So we’ll probably need to make some alterations.  Tuff, could you go with him and show him how to put it on?”

Tuffnut grinned.  “C’mon, Hic, you’ll love this.”

Hiccup gave Astrid a sidelong look and was met with a gleeful grin in response, as she was clutching at another garment bag, her excitement practically making her vibrate while standing.

He shook his head and lead Tuffnut upstairs. 

Tuffnut blinked when he saw the bedroom, and then a gleeful grin spread across his face.  “Wow, Hic, you’ve got her all moved in, don’t you?” 

“Jealous, Tuff?” Hiccup asked tightly. 

That actually made Tuffnut pause.  “Yeah, actually,” he said after a moment’s thought.  “Freyja knows that I love Cami, and I’d honestly love to have this with her, but Bertha just thinks that I’m in it just for the kinks and the sex.”  He scowled as Hiccup laid the garment bag out on the bed.

“Are you?” Hiccup asked, finding the zipper and opening it—and then he gave a little gasp at the outfit inside.

“Hel no!” Tuffnut protested, and started to ramble on all of the things he loved about Cami… but Hiccup barely heard him, as he looked at the outfit he’d been given. 

A red longsleeved shirt with a brown leather vest that had been embossed to give it a pattern that suggested scales laid inside in the garment bag; a belt and bandoleer made of black leather sat on top of them, the leather looking aged and worn, but a quick touch showed that it was just some sort of treatment.  There were also a pair of brown leather pauldrons that would cover his shoulders, and a pair of leather vambraces that would cover his forearms, both of which seemed to be attached to the cloth of the shirt.  A pair of trousers of dark green cloth and a pair of furry sheepskin boots dangled down in the lower part of the bag. 

He realized that Tuff was looking at him with a smirk as the silence sank in.

“How… how long have you been staring at me?” Hiccup asked.

Tuff shrugged.  “Time is an illusion.  I like thinking fifth dimensionally.”

Hiccup snorted—and then pulled the suit from the bag.

Tuff instructed him on how to get it on; for all of the apparent age of the outfit, its construction was quite modern, with hidden zippers and snaps—and, to his surprise, there was a zipper around the left calf of the trousers… in case he wanted to show off his prosthetic or not. 

Tuff grinned sheepishly at that.  “The girls wanted to know if you had a spare leg that they could ‘dirty up’ to make it match the rest of the outfit.  You know, for that old Viking-with-a-peg-leg look.”

Hiccup thought for a moment and then rummaged in his closet for a minute before pulling out one of his older prosthetics.  Over the last five years, he’d gone through a lot of them, having grown over thirty centimeters.  The prosthetic maker had commented that he’d gone from the tenth percentile for height to the sixtieth, and he wasn’t showing any signs of slowing down. They were projecting him to top out at somewhere north of a hundred and eighty centimeters in the next year or so—an image that still boggled his mind—and while his current leg should be adjustable to that height, being less than six months old, his prior legs had been strictly temporary.  And therefore much cruder.

He wordlessly handed over his older leg; it was made of machined aluminum and fiberglass, and barely looked like a human leg—more like a crude goatfoot.  But Tuffnut didn’t react beyond an appreciative grin.  “Oh, this’ll be perfect!” he said. 

“I can’t wear it without limping, though. It’s three centimeters too short,” Hiccup pointed out.

“Well, they can add something to the bottom, right?”

“Maybe,” Hiccup said, feeling a bit skeptical.  “I kept it around for emergencies, really.”

“And is this not an emergency, Hic?  Getting to go out on Samhain with your hot girlfriend in a great outfit with all of the details done _just_ right?” Tuffnut asked earnestly, casually patting Hiccup on the shoulder.

Hiccup snorted.  “So, what about you and Cami?  What are you going as?”

“Dude, we’re going to be a whole _group_ of Vikings!  It’s going to be awesome!”  He tossed the costume to Hiccup.  “C’mon, put it on so that the girls know what needs to be altered.”  He ducked out and closed the door behind him. 

With an amused sigh and a roll of his eyes at Tuffnut, Hiccup stripped down to his underwear and pulled on the outfit.  It was a little loose in the shoulders, but cinching things tighter with the bandoleer worked nicely.  The pants, though…

He looked at himself in the mirror on the front of Astrid’s wardrobe and swallowed.  They weren’t _quite_ painted on, but getting an erection in them would be impossible to miss, and the underwear was obvious underneath it. 

For a brief moment, he considered going commando, but that seemed a little fraught at the moment.

Oh, and he looked absurd with his glasses on, just in terms of sheer anachronistic clashing, and wondered if he could get a pair of temporary contacts, or just deal with being farsighted for the night. 

Nah, he’d want to be able to appreciate Astrid at all ranges.  Contacts it was.

Dressed, he opened the door to find Tuffnut gone, and, bracing himself with a grimace, headed for the stairs.

He heard giggling and laughter coming from the rest of the house and followed the noise. 

Tuffnut was standing guard by the lounge door.  He saw Hiccup coming, grinned, gave him a thumbs up, and then made a pretentious halting motion.

Hiccup rolled his eyes but paused.

Tuffnut turned to the door.  “Ladies, are you decent?  Sir Haddock is here,” he said in his most puffed-up door warder voice.

Cami’s voice came through the door, filled with mirth.  “No, but you can send him in anyway!”

Tuffnut bowed and pushed the door open with a smirk, making Hiccup roll his eyes and walk past.  Pushing the curtain open, he started to say, “Okay, it fits… oh my _gods_.”

The girls were all dressed in various medieval outfits—even Moana, which made him wonder with a small corner of his mind what the story was there.  But the lion’s share of his attention was taken up by _Astrid._

They’d taken the Viking shieldmaiden sketch that he’d made and turned it into reality, and it was every bit the image of perfection that he had envisioned.

Two pauldrons attached to a leather harness protected her shoulders.  While her biceps were bare, her forearms covered with what looked like roughspun armwarmers.  A blue knit vest covered her chest snugly, leading down to leather pteruges, embellished with metal rivet-spikes and a belt embellished with bird skulls.  Skintight purple leggings vanished down her strong legs into a pair of knee-high sheepskin boots.  

And she had a massive battleax in one hand, a metal-studded leather circlet in her hair and a giant grin on her face. 

“You… you…” he stammered in awe.

“Do you like it?” Heather asked eagerly. 

Dumbfound, he nodded, and Heather and Ruffnut high-fived. 

Slowly, Hiccup took in the rest of their outfits. 

Ruffnut was wearing a leather and fur tunic ensemble with a spiked helmet, while Merida was dressed in an ankle-length blue-green dress with a bow and quiver slung over her shoulder and around her waist, respectively. 

Cami was wearing a sleeveless red knit thigh-length vest that had been cut to emphasize her cleavage, a fur jacket, and a pair of green-brown leggings over boots, and had a giant sword on her back and what looked like the entire theater club’s worth of costume jewelry around her neck (and, given that Tuff and Ruff were _in_ the theater club, that might very well be the case). 

Heather was wearing what looked like a plate-metal skirt along with a leather vest and a gray longsleeved shirt, and Moana, surprisingly, was also dressed in furs and leathers, including an off-white pelt for her skirt and a red tunic. 

She saw his questioning look and grinned.  “Last year, I went in Polynesian clothing and was reminded that I’m _from_ a tropical zone, thank you, and Scotland _isn’t_.”

Astrid laughed.  “You were huddling by the fire, complaining about being a Moana-sicle.”

“Yep.  So this year, I’m blending in,” she said with a smirk. 

“So… why are you all wearing it now?” he asked.  “Samhain isn’t for another week and change.”

“My cousin Lars just finished up on the parts,” Ruffnut said with a grin.  “So we needed to make sure that they fit. Especially since that and that,” she pointed to his outfit, followed by Astrid’s, “were rush jobs.”

“Plus, we need to make sure that they’re comfortable to wear for a few hours,” Merida said.  “So… can we abuse your hospitality some more?”

Hiccup laughed.  “Sure!”  He motioned to the costumes.  “This couldn’t have been cheap, so it’s the least we can do.  What would you like?  There’s pizza fixings in the freezer—”

Cami tackle-hugged him.  “Yummy!”  Then she paused and patted over his back… and rear.  And said “ _Yummy,_ ” again… in a _very_ different tone, followed by an exaggerated wink at Astrid. 

Hiccup flushed as Astrid rolled her eyes and stepped over to pointedly pull Cami off of him.  “Hands off, you’ve got your own boyfriend,” Astrid said, rolling her eyes and giving a fond smile, so Hiccup supposed that this was just usual Cami antics, and not to take it personally.  He could hear Tuffnut chuckling.

Cami gave an exaggerated pout, and then a smirk.  “Yep.  By the way, did you like our starter kit?”

Hiccup quickly made for the door—but not before Moana asked, “What ‘starter kit’?”

Cami said cheerfully, “We dropped two hundred quid or so on some basic sex toys for these two—mmmph!”

“Annnnd that’s enough out of you, Cami,” Astrid said cheerfully, covering her friend’s mouth. 

Hiccup laughed as he reached the kitchen and started to preheat the oven.  A moment later, the others followed.  As he bustled about getting pizza fixings out, Moana rolled her eyes and then cheerfully patted Hiccup on the shoulder.  “And here I thought that you were ace, too.”

Hiccup shook his head.  “No, I just play one on the telly.”  They all laughed.  Hiccup looked around and felt a moment of absurd humour.  Since when did _he_ have a room full of laughing teens who came over just to hang out?  Still shaking his head, he said, “So, pizza will take a bit.  Movies while we wait?”

“Sounds good!” Astrid said, and there was immediate good-natured squabbling over which movie to watch. 

Hiccup prepped the pizza dough, and set people to helping—although he didn’t let the twins _anywhere_ near the knives—and in short order, the pies were bubbling in the oven. 

When Ma Kosti arrived an hour or so later, she did a glorious double-take at the crowd of teens in the lounge, before beaming at Hiccup. 

A few hours later, when the costumes, having been stress-tested for long-duration comfort, were packed away and the other teens had left, Hiccup looked around the kitchen at the decimated… actually, no, the _semi_ mated racks of cookies.  Because ‘ _deci_ mated’ meant one-tenth… and the number of cookies that their visitors had surreptitiously snacked on was _way_ more than a simple tenth. 

“I’m sorry, Ma Kosti,” he said apologetically. 

She snorted.  “Henry, I don’t mind.  We’ve still got a week and more until Samhain, and I’m just happy to see that you’re finally starting to get more of a social circle.”

“They’re here to see Astrid—” he started to protest, only for Astrid to cut in.

“They might be here to see me, babe, but they’re also here to see you.”  She smirked.  “For your cooking, sure, but Merida and Ruff think that you’re a great guy in your own right.  And Cami was commenting to me about your great butt all afternoon—and so was Tuffnut.”

Hiccup flushed as Ma Kosti burst out laughing. 

#

The alarm went off and Hiccup absently slapped at it, groaning.  Astrid was cuddled up next to him. 

Astrid mumbled into his chest, something about “turn it off…”

“Can’t, mi’lady,” he said sleepily.  “We’ve got school in a few hours, remember?”  Vacation was over, and it was time to go back.

“Fuck…” she drawled with a yawn, and started to stretch—almost clouting him on the nose with her fist.

“Well, if you’re feeling up for it, we _did_ save the shower for last…” he said with a smile.

“Mmmh.  Yes,” she said with a matching smile and rolled over to kiss him.  After Thursday and the culmination of their bet, they had indeed fucked their way through the house.  Foreplay in the foyer, blowjobs in the basement, missionary on the lounge couch, cowgirl in the living room, cunnilingus in the dining room…

And they’d left the shower for last. 

With eager grins, they stripped and went to the bathroom.  As Hiccup turned on the taps, Astrid climbed in, and then helped him in.  They kissed under the spray, and she stroked him to full erectness.  They were going faster than they did normally, but then again, they _did_ have class…

Astrid produced the bottle of shower-safe lube and dabbed a generous amount onto herself before pushing him onto the shower seat.  Thus seated, she straddled him and sank down onto him. 

They sighed together and started to move, the water sluicing over their bodies as they kissed.  Hiccup’s hands were occupied with kneading her back and spine, while her nipples were stiff pebbles rubbing against his chest.  

She felt amazing around him, the warmth of her inner walls seeming to meld in with the warmth of the shower’s water, and yet he could feel her rubbing against him, and it made him moan. 

And then she was kissing his neck, and sucking hard against the skin, making lightning seem to dance up and down inside him.  He groaned and moaned as he felt her teeth against his skin, and relished the fact that she seemed so very pleased to fulfill his kink like this.

But he hadn’t marked her yet.  It hadn’t seemed appropriate, not while he could still see some faint discoloration from her father’s slap on her face.  Admittedly, he could only see it by looking for it at close range… but it felt so inappropriate for him to do so just yet.  And also, there hadn’t been what felt like the right moment.  It was an act of claiming and an act of trust… and he already felt like she was too tied to him already.  Every bite of food she ate, nearly every stitch of clothing she had… was from his family.  Marking her with a love bite?  No.  That was going too far…

In his lap, she was close; he knew her and her reactions so well by this point.  So he reached down and fiddled with her clit with his finger, while he took her nipple in his mouth and flicked it with his tongue.   She came undone right then and there on him, crying his name quietly, it echoing oddly against the tiled walls. 

Gently, he laid her down on the floor of the bathtub, and, with her eager voice whispering obscene urgings in his ear, he plowed into her, energetically fucking her as she wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him in harder and deeper.  Her voice broke as she came again around him, and with one last thrust and a grunted admission of love, he came, spilling inside her.

They slumped, and, panting, Astrid’s amused and satisfied voice sounded in his ear.

“That was good.  Should we actually shower now?”

He laughed and pulled free of her. 

#

Astrid held on tight as Hiccup drove his moped to school.  She had a new backpack, and Alvin had delivered her textbooks on Friday, so she was good to go.  The trip to school was uneventful; Hiccup lived closer than she did, and it took only about ten minutes to get to the campus. 

They parked and locked up the moped before walking in, hand-in-hand. 

And people noticed.

There were glances and whispers as they went through the halls to their first class, and Astrid wondered what they were saying—while at the same time resisting the urge to announce to all and sundry that she was in love and had gotten laid this morning, last night, and regularly for the last two weeks.  Because _that_ had no chance of backfiring, no…

So, ignoring the whispers, they went to their respective classrooms and started the school day.

Before her class started, though, Anna came up to her, the eye-catching white streak of hair running through one of her red pigtails.  “You okay?”

Astrid grinned and gave her a beautific look.  “Gods, yes.”

Then the class started and Astrid focused on taking notes.  For both her’s and her lover’s sakes, they needed to keep being the best that there was in this form. 

Politics passed quickly, while Hiccup was off in Electrical Engineering, followed by her in History and him in Computing.  A fifteen minute break between classes let them hit the toilets.  There were whispers in the girls’ toilets when she entered, but she didn’t engage anyone in conversation.  She went and did her business, but as she went to leave, Belle came over to her. 

“Astrid?  Is it true?” she asked, looking concerned. 

Astrid looked at the other girl; she was third in the class rankings, and if she ever actually looked up from her novels and applied herself, Astrid’s spot as salutatorian would be in serious danger.  They weren’t close friends, though. 

“Is what true?” she asked, deflecting.

Belle gave her a flat look.  “That you ran away from home after your dad hit you and you’re staying with Henry Haddock?”

Astrid nodded.  “Yes.  And Henry’s dad has been trying to help me get free of my father so he can’t hurt me any more.”

Belle nodded and then leaned in.  “He’s not… forcing you or anything?” she asked, shuddering.

Astrid shook her head.  “I’ve… I… how do I put this?  I feel safer and more at home and more in control after two weeks there than I did in my whole life at my parents’.”

Belle looked at her, and Astrid met her gaze with a serious expression of her own, and then Belle sighed, relieved, before saying in a joking tone, “Well, I guess I don’t get a free step up the class ranking.”

Astrid smirked.  “You’re going to have to put that big brain of yours to work and put down your stories.”

Belle grinned.  “Not happening.”  She headed off, and Astrid, shaking her head, did the same. 

Her next class was Philosophy, shared with Hiccup and most of her friends.  They quickly grabbed seats next to each other, and he asked, “How’s it going?”

“Not too bad… I think having had the time to digest it over break let people get used to the idea,” she said.

“Glad to hear that.  Meanwhile, I’ve had a few of the thick-headed ones take offense to me ‘poaching’,” he deadpanned.  “Gaston was pissed.”

“Urgh,” Astrid said with a scowl; the thick-headed French transfer student was worse than Snotlout, and had gotten violent in the past.  Before she could say as much to Hiccup, Mr. Mildew entered the classroom. 

After he took roll call and found them all present, he seemed almost disappointed.  “Well, now that break is over, we’re beginning our debate and rhetoric section practical.  I have your assignments here; you have one week to prepare your debates.  Next week, we will have them in class.”  With a sadistic smile, he picked up his clipboard and started to read off the list. 

 “Camilla Bog and Laverne Thorston: Internet access, right or privilege?”

There was a sound of protest from Cami and Tuff, but before they could say anything more than an incoherent noise, Mr Mildew continued.

“Merida Dunbroch and Eugene Thorston: Gay marriage, for and against.”

Astrid’s eyes widened.  He couldn’t seriously be forcing the two of them to…

“Eret Eretson and Gary Jorgenson: Laboratory testing on animals, for and against.”  Then he looked at her and Hiccup, and she would have sworn that she saw his lip curl in a sneer, just as she remembered that Mr. Mildew had been her father’s favorite teacher.  “Astrid Hofferson and Henry Haddock: Abortion, for and against.”

She couldn’t help it—she gasped, and swallowed half of it in a grunt before raising her hand.  But Mr. Mildew ignored her, and continued.

“Justin Ingerman and Moana Waialiki: Economic development versus environmentalism.”

More of the class was given personally painful or antagonizing debating topics.  Belle and the class’s resident UKIP member, John Fletcher, had to debate Brexit… while Ryan Macintosh and Cecil Clayton had to debate Scottish independence.  Thaaaaat was probably going to end with blood on the wall—hopefully Clayton’s.  MacGuffin and that persistent American thorn in Astrid’s side, Anthony Sawyer, had to debate on renewable energy—in particular, the wind farms off of the east coast, near MacGuffin’s home, and where Sawyer’s father worked.

Then Mr Mildew smiled and read off the last two names. 

“Dagur Oswaldsson and Heather Oswaldsson, fertility treatments versus adoption.”

There was a scrap of chair legs against linoleum as Dagur half-got to his feet and Eret, Heather and Fishlegs hauled him back into his chair before he could attack the teacher. 

The mood in the classroom was stunned and pained, and then Mildew looked up at all of them.  “Now, open your books to chapter sixteen and we’ll begin…”

#

Hiccup looked around the group of morose teenagers sitting in the lunch hall and sighed.  Two thirds of the Philosophy class was sitting there in pained solidarity, aimlessly poking at the cafeteria food—or giving covetous looks at the packed lunchbox that he and Astrid were sharing.  The thick vegetable soup he’d poured for both of them from the vacuum flask was steaming into the air in the little bowls next to their wrapped stacked rye, chicken, tomato and cheese sandwiches. 

“Just when I think that Mildew can’t get any worse, he goes and pulls a stunt like this!” Snotlout complained.  “I mean, mine and Eret’s… well… urgh, but making Dag and Heather have to argue over which of them shouldn’t _exist!?”_

The two siblings in question were sitting quietly at the end of the table, talking furtively between themselves, while the rest of them were giving the two of them some space. 

Hiccup knew that the pair of them were both the results of fertility treatments—Dagur had been IVF and carried by a surrogate, and then, five months later, their mother had discovered that she was pregnant with Heather, one of the fertility drugs having apparently belatedly worked. 

There was silence for a moment, and then Fishlegs coughed.  “Perhaps we should complain to the administration,” he said.  “Some of these…”  he glanced at Hiccup and Astrid and then at the Oswaldssons, “were just evil.”

Cami scoffed.  “They’re not going to fire him or censure him.  He has free reign to run his class, remember?  No, we’re stuck.”

Hiccup rubbed at his face, and then turned to Astrid.  “He knows.”

She nodded.  “He and my father are old friends.”

Hiccup scowled—but before he could say anything else, Moana pounded on the table in frustration.  “The worst part is that he left up who gets to debate which side to us!”

There were mutters of agreement all around.  “Everything else, he dictated, but he’s letting us argue on _that_ part,” Eret said crankily. 

“Just his little way of twisting the knife,” Ruffnut said lightly, even as her expression said that she was fantasizing about various forms of cinema-worthy murder. 

“Yep.  Make us have to fight each other before we even get to the debate,” Cami said tightly.

They all scowled or growled.  Then Astrid poked Hiccup and whispered in his ear.  He listened and nodded, and then coughed to get everyone’s attention. 

They all looked to him, and he swallowed at the sudden focus.  “So… um… Astrid and I would like to invite everyone here over after school is done so we can handle this as a group.  You know, for mutual support and all that, keep things from spiraling out of control.”

There were murmurs of approval to that, and then Snotlout, smirking, asked, “Is dinner included in that?”

Hiccup looked to his cousin and nodded.  “Yeah, it is, Gary.”  _Especially since you kept your mouth shut with that tasty, tasty gossip for over a week._

Tuffnut clapped his hand on the table.  “Sold!”

There was general agreement among everyone there, and thanks all around for the invitation… and they were aimed at him.

Not Astrid. 

She held his hand and smiled at him.  “See?”

* * *

_This chapter, I have two recs._   
  
_First is a smutty Hiccstrid one-shot from HeathenVampires, called **Wild** , which should be good for those interested in toys of an adult nature.  ;)_   
  
_Then, for the more lengthy and plotty rec, I have **Open** , also from HeathenVampires.  Modern AU, Hiccup/Eret and Hiccup/Eret/Astrid.  Smutty, fluffy, plotty, and an excellent depiction of a healthy open and polyamorous relationship (if this isn’t something that you’re mature or open-minded enough to handle, steer clear).  Hiccup and Eret thought that they had their open relationship all figured out, and then Astrid comes into their lives, and they have to figure out how to deal with her testing every rule that they have._

 


	25. Chapter 23: So I Bare My Skin

**Chapter 23: So I Bare My Skin**

Heartened by the promise of good food at her new home after school, the lunch group broke up after they were done eating and went to their separate classes.  She and Hiccup had Psychology next, and took seats next to each other. 

As he had since they’d left the lunch hall, he continued to ramble.

“Astrid, I mean, it’s great that you’re pulling me into your social circle, I just don’t want to get you excluded—”

“Hiccup, it’s not a zero-sum!  You having more friends doesn’t make me have less friends!”

“I know, but—”

The door opened, and their teacher, Mr Grimborn, entered.  The whole class sat up to pay attention.  Mr Grimborn—voted by the student body five years running as the ‘Teacher Most Likely To Be A Cool Supervillain’—was well liked, with a deadpan sense of humor and a wonderful way of explaining the material. 

Astrid watched his expression as he took attendance… and his eyes widened briefly when he got to the Hs and saw them sitting next to each other. 

_Uh oh._

But he didn’t react any more than that, other than to finish taking attendance and then clap his hands together.  “Welcome back everyone.  I hope that you had a good break.  Now, as I mentioned before break, we’re starting section three today, on personality development, so open your books…” he said in his posh Received Pronunciation.

The next hour passed in a blur, as Mr Grimborn explained the overview of personality development.  Astrid took copious notes, as she always did, but over the last year, she and Hiccup had developed the habit of splitting their efforts and combining their notes later.  They meshed very well together in that, with him creating concept webs with major keywords tied together, and her copying the notes from the board.  Now, with them next to each other, they seemed to have reached a new height of synergy. 

“…and next class, we’ll be examining cognitive development.  Class dismissed.”  As everyone got up to leave, Mr Grimborn raised his hand.  “Mr Haddock, Ms Hofferson, please hold a moment.”

They shared worried looks, but hefted their bags and stayed behind. 

As the last student filed out of the classroom, he looked at the pair of them.  “So, Young Vulcan,” he said to Hiccup, “I see that you two have stopped hiding.  Finally.”

“Excuse me?  Sir?” Hiccup said, adding the honorific after a moment’s pause.

Mr Grimborn sighed, even as he smiled at Hiccup.  “A number of us in the faculty had already noticed you two growing… closer, over the last few months.”  He crossed his arms and quirked his lips.  “That being said, I’ll admit to having been surprised when we were told just _how_ close.”

“Sir,” Hiccup said as neutrally as he could, and Astrid kept her mouth shut, wondering where this was going… even as she feared she knew.

“Suffice it to say, you could have heard the proverbial pin drop when we were told that our two top students had a bit of an… accident,” Mr Grimborn said flatly.  “So, while you didn’t hear it from me, I will offhandedly mention to my notebook here that we’re under strict orders to grade your work extra critically, separate you two if at all possible, and keep a close eye on ‘unseemly’ behavior.  Am I clear?”

“As crystal, sir,” Astrid said, choked.  Even though she’d been expecting as much, having it confirmed was still somewhat terrifying.

“Good.  Now, get to your next class.”  Mr Grimborn pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose.  “I can guarantee you that attendance will be extra strict for the both of you.”

They moved to the door, but right before they reached it, Mr Grimborn said quietly, “And Young Vulcan? Congratulations to you both.”

Astrid affirmed to herself that she’d ask what the nickname was about, but later, and they both hurried off to their next class.

 

#

As the final bell rang, Hiccup sighed in relief. 

Next to him, Astrid moaned and said, “I second the motion.”

“Thirded,” came from Heather, sitting nearby. 

“Unanimous,” Eret said, slumped across his desk.

Fishlegs then cleared his throat.  “So, um, Henry, when should we come by?  For that debate practice?”

“And dinner?” Ruffnut added.

Hiccup thought for a moment.  “Any requests?  Or should I just make what I’ve got on hand?”

“Make what you’ve got on hand,” Heather said.  “You’ve…” she glanced from side to side and said quietly, “You and Ast have a really nasty topic.  Don’t stress yourself too much.”

Hiccup nodded, and thought for a moment.  “Say… five o’clock?  Food, followed by debate practice?”

There was a murmur of agreement.  People were starting to figure out rides and other forms of transportation as he and Astrid left the classroom, making a beeline for the bathrooms.

Releasing their hands, they separated, and went into their respective facilities.  Hiccup finished quickly and was loitering outside in the hall, waiting for his girlfriend, when someone called his name.

“Hey, Henry, got a moment?”

Hiccup turned to see one of the American exchange students—Anthony Sawyer—standing there with an earnest expression and an outstretched hand.

“Oh, hi.  Uh, sure.”  He shook Anthony’s hand and winced as the other guy seemed to be intent on breaking a couple of Hiccup’s fingers with his grip. 

“So, gotta ask, why you didn’t answer my messages?” Anthony said after releasing Hiccup’s fingers.

Hiccup shook his hand out.  “I got a _lot_ of messages over the last few weeks, Anthony.  I’m sorry that I missed yours.”

“Eh, well, it’s all good.  So, you landed Astrid, eh?  I guess if you didn’t read my messages, I can give you congrats in person,” Anthony said with a smile.

Hiccup gave Anthony a side-eyed look.  “She’s not a fish.  She’s my girlfriend.”

Anthony held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Sorry, sorry.  Didn’t mean it like that.  Just, she  was one of the last single girls in the whole of the school, and you’re dating her.  So I gotta congratulate you for that.  And,” he spread his arms in a friendly gesture, “I’m glad that it’s you.”

“Huh?  Why?” Hiccup asked, confused.  This was a first from outside Astrid’s circle of friends.

“Well, most of the guys here would just try to take advantage of her, you know?  I mean, she’s so beautiful and her family’s well off, and she’s too good to have that happen to her.  But you’re a nice guy, and I’m sure that you’ll treat her right,” he said charmingly. 

“I’ll do my best,” Hiccup said a bit guardedly.  He was saved from having to say anything more to the other guy as Astrid emerged from the toilets and saw them there. 

“Ma’am,” Anthony said, giving her a polite nod of the head.

She sighed and took Hiccup’s hand.  “Come on.”

As they reached his moped, Astrid asked quietly, “What did he say to you?”

“Who, Sawyer?” Hiccup asked, checking over his moped for tampering.  Already he could tell that this was going to get old, fast.

“Yeah,” she said flatly.

“Uh, not much.  Mostly congratulations, and wanting to know why I didn’t respond to his messages.  Oh, and he said that he trusted me to ‘treat you right’.”

Astrid gave a bitter laugh.  “Oh, he would.  But he’s wrong in that.”

“What—ow!”

“Hiccup?!”

“Pinched my finger,” he said, pulling the digit free of the moped’s innards and sucking on it.  “How am I not ‘treating you right’?”

She quirked an eyebrow, glanced around, and then leaned in.  “Hiccup.  Did you or did you not have sex with me without us being married?”

He blinked.  “What?”

“Sawyer’s like something out of the Victorian era—or America, I suppose.  He’s a classic ‘Nice Guy’ with a Madonna-Whore complex that’s practically out of a textbook.  To him, I’m a ‘good girl’, because I’m ‘pure’ and ‘virginal.’”

Hiccup couldn’t help it and burst out laughing.

She laughed too, but there was a bitter edge to it.  “I know, right?  Gods forbid that a girl actually have sexual desires of their own!”

Hiccup looked up from the moped and at her.  “He really believes that?”

“Yep.  So he treats the girls without boyfriends with this _dripping_ paternalism, on how we’re not like those _other_ girls.  He once told me and Moana that we shouldn’t be friends with Cami, Merida or Ruff because they might corrupt us, but since they’re _whores_ now for having sex, he’s been chasing after them.  Oh, and he _blew his top_ when he found out that Heather and Eret slept together and then broke up.  Harangued them for daring to have sex and all that, and saying that they shouldn’t have done it.”

Hiccup said dryly, “Charming.  Wonder what he’ll say when he finds out about us?”

“Probably the same,” she said just as dryly.  “Moana, at least, is safe, but he’s also shown his racist side there.  Because not only is she _pure_ and virginal, she’s also ‘exotic.’”

“Yuck.  Oh, the things I missed being a social outcast,” he said dryly and snapped the cowling shut.  “I think we’re good.”

She sighed.  “Sorry, but he just makes me so _angry._ ”

He put on his helmet, handed her the spare and mounted up.  As he started the engine, he said, “I understand, Ast.  But cross that bridge when we get to it?”

She snorted and put on the helmet.  “So long as I can burn it behind us and dynamite the supports.”

He chuckled.  “Sounds good to me.”  She got on the seat behind him and put her arms around him and off they went. 

They got home without incident, and she and Hiccup busied themselves with preparing for their guests.  The freezer was raided, and Hiccup snorted as he put the pan of lasagna into the oven to warm.  “Ma Kosti said that she wanted some more space in the freezer for cookies.”

Astrid snorted.  “Well, she’s getting that!”

A couple of containers of chicken stock followed, and Hiccup busied himself making a pot of soup out of them.  Checking their fresh vegetable supplies, he got out a bunch of mushrooms and onions, some carrots, snow peas and bok choy, and sliced and diced them.  Setting Astrid to peeling some ginger and garlic, he started to saute the vegetables in oil.  Once the mushrooms were releasing their juices, he got out the good garlic press, and let Astrid take out some of her frustrations by crushing the garlic and ginger with it. 

“Feel better?” he asked after the crushed spices were merrily sauteing.

“Much,” she said with a smile. 

He grinned and added the stock.  As it came to a boil, they busied themselves with thin-slicing some chicken breast, which went in once the soup was at a simmer.  Some soy sauce, scallions and bamboo shoots followed, and a large spoonful of sesame oil rounded things out. 

Astrid sniffed over the pot greedily as the Thai Ginger Soup finished.  “Okay, so what is everyone else having?”

They laughed, and then there was a knock at the door.  Hiccup went up to get it and let Astrid’s friends—and his friends now, too, come to think of it—into their home. 

 

#

Snotlout’s spoon clattered as he half-dropped it into his empty bowl, making Astrid give him a look.  “Gods, that was _good,_ ” he said.  “Coz, I know we butt heads a lot, but you’re a damn fine chef.”

Hiccup snorted and Astrid affected a pained expression.

“What’s wrong?” Hiccup asked, looking at her.

She started looking all over the dining room.  “What do I do, what do I do?”

“What?  What is it?”

“I… I agree with Snotlout!” Astrid said in a humorous panic.

There was a pause as everyone digested her proclamation—along with the food.

Then…

“Ragnarok is at hand!” Heather said, wide-eyed.

“The Fimbulwinter is upon us!” Dagur said pretentiously.

“Goodbye, warm weather!” Fishlegs bemoaned.

Moana swore and said, “Quick, quick, disagree!  I don’t want to freeze!”

They all laughed, but then a sick sort of sense of anticipation seemed to settle on them all. 

Then Astrid bit the bullet.  “Okay.  So… who goes first?”

“We still have to decide who takes what,” Cami said sullenly.  “Tuff and I have to decide who gets the UN position, and who gets the Tory position.”

“Lie back and think of England?” Heather deadpanned. 

Cami snorted.  “Funny.  No, the Universal Declaration of Human Rights says that access to information is a right, but the Tories want to make it a privilege.  And ‘privileges’,” she emphasized lightly, “can be _revoked.”_  

Astrid commented, “And that one was personally addressed to you two, for all of the online activism you two do.”

Cami scowled.  “Yeah, kinda figured that out already, Ast.”  She scoffed and sighed.  “Sorry.  I shouldn’t be taking it out on you.”

“Not a problem.  This was done specifically to make us angry,” she said with a nod. 

“Yeah.  Let’s not give him what he wants,” Merida added with a frown. 

“So, what’s the best way to handle this?” Eret asked.

“Coin flip,” Fishlegs said.  “Leave it up to chance, rather than stress ourselves out over who gets what.”

Astrid nodded, and a quick search of Hiccup’s backpack found a pound coin.  “Call?” he asked.

She took a deep breath.  “Heads, I get pro-, tails, I get anti-.”

He nodded and flipped the coin. Catching it, he slapped it onto the back of his hand, paused, and then lifted his hand off.

Tails.

Astrid swallowed and nodded.  “So you get pro-abortion, I get anti-abortion.” 

The coin was passed around the room, and the others flipped, pair by pair.  Cami had to defend internet access as a privilege, while Merida had to argue against gay marriage.  Eret had to argue for lab testing on animals, and Fishlegs was going to have to argue for economic development.  And Dagur had to argue for adoption.

Nobody was very happy, but they’d at least settled that without argument.

Trying to set a good example, Astrid pulled Hiccup up and to the head of the table.  “All right.  So, how do we want to handle this?”

Merida commented, “Technically, we should be researching and preparing and all of that first, but I think that we might just want to get a first trial run done and over with.  Those not debating or judging will take notes on where you need to polish things.”

Ruffnut nodded.  “Yep.  And hey…” she scowled.  “At least with the topics being tailored for us, we’re already familiar with them.”

Eret grumbled, “Want to bet that’s one of his excuses?”

Dagur grunted, “I have a standing policy of not taking sucker bets.”

That sent a light, if bitter, chuckle around the room. 

“Okay, so, warmup debates then?” Astrid asked.  “Five minutes a side, then rebuttals?”

“And half of us judge and the other half take notes?” Heather suggested.

“Sounds reasonable,” Moana said, and got out her tablet.  “Let’s do this.”

Astrid took a deep breath.  “Hiccup, can you start?”

“Me?  Why me?” he asked.

“Valedictorian,” Heather offered with a smile.  “Got to set a good example for the rest of us!”

He scowled, but nodded. 

As he and Astrid stood at the head of the dining room table, he took a deep breath, and then another.

“What?” Astrid asked.  “You okay?”

“Just remembering our practice debates over break,” he said, and she nodded.

Hiccup straightened, and, after a false start, began to speak.

Astrid listened intently.  For all of his shyness, he was a good speaker…

Too good, almost.

She listened and felt her throat grow tight as he laid out the bodily autonomy reasonings.  And he was right.  It was _her_ body, and she had the right to do with it as she pleased. 

…but it was _their_ kid. 

She shook her head.  He wasn’t addressing her.  It was a debate, nothing more.

“…family planning services allow for a couple to space out their children for when they’re economically ready to raise them, helping break the cycle of poverty…” her lover said, and it was like a blow to the gut. 

Were they ready to have a kid?  They’d be seventeen, heading off to college, and while Hiccup was a genius, how would that genius fare under the weight of raising a child?  Because Hiccup was right—raising a kid was a major undertaking. 

“You okay there?” he asked, and, having been directly addressed, she replied, “I’m all right.  But economic decisions are only one factor.  What about familial and emotional considerations?”

Hiccup blinked.  “How so?”

“Well, it takes two people.  Shouldn’t the father also have a say?” she rebutted.

Hiccup shook his head.  “That leads to women being forced to carry children they don’t want.”

Astrid choked and rebutted.  “And the father’s wishes mean nothing?”

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed.  “When _he_ can carry the baby for nine months and risk all _sorts_ of fun medical issues, _sure._ ”

“Tone,” Heather chided. 

“Sorry,” Hiccup said belligerently.  “But that’s the point.  It’s the mother’s body, she gets to decide what happens with it.  And if that decision is ‘No’, then nobody else gets to say otherwise and have her risk herself for _their_ benefit.”

Astrid wanted to cry out that it _wasn’t_ a risk, but instead she glared and said, “But with proper medical support, the risk is negligible.”

“But still present!” Hiccup rebutted instantly.  “It’s still a major undertaking!”

“I’m not denying that, but he should still have a say in it if he’s invested at all!  Sure, a lot of guys just _bail_ on the girl,” _guys not like you,_ she thought, her heart hammering, “but if he’s invested, shouldn’t he have _some_ input?”

“If he’s invested, then he _has_ input!  He can talk to his girlfriend like any decent guy!” Hiccup fired back.

 _But you haven’t.  You’ve been leaving it entirely in my hands,_ Astrid thought.  _Don’t you care?_   She tried to quash that thought.  She knew that he _did_ care, but it was there now...

“Besides,” Hiccup continued, “There’s a double-standard at work here anyway.  The man suffers _none_ of the social fallout or stigma for unintended pregnancies or abortions.  Girls are ‘sluts’ and ‘whores’, while guys are ‘players’ and ‘studs’.  If the men are not bearing any of the risks--medical, social, economic--why should they get a _legal_ say?”

They went back and forth from there.  Heather tried to restore order a few times, but she couldn’t get a word in edgewise as Astrid fired argument and rebuttal back and forth with Hiccup.  By the end of it, Astrid was nearly in tears as she was nearly shouting.  In the back of her mind, the thought went around again and again, no matter how much she tried to dismiss it as irrational.  _You don’t want it.  You want to abort it._

Her chest heaving as she took deep breath after breath, feeling her eyes stinging with unshed tears, she stared as Hiccup rebutted her point on maternal support, almost shouting himself.

Then the thought rang through her mind, and she screamed, “ _Hooligan!”_ and turned and ran for the stairs. 

She needed to get out of here… and away from this.

 

#

Hiccup stared as Astrid vanished from the room, her safeword ringing in her ears.  Everyone in the room was staring at him, eyes universally wide. 

“What just happened?” Moana asked quietly.

Hiccup breathed out slowly.  “Astrid and I… we agreed to… to use ‘safewords’ in case either of us were feeling overwhelmed.”

“That sounds pretty much like what just happened,” Cami said.

“And… and why was Astrid feeling overwhelmed?” Moana asked cautiously.  She clearly suspected why, judging by the knowing look on her face, but wasn’t saying anything.

Hiccup swallowed and looked around the room.  Everyone else in here knew already, come to think of it. 

Heather interrupted his thoughts.  “ _You_ go check on her.  We’ll fill her in, alright?”

Hiccup nodded and left, as quiet conversation began behind him.  Climbing the stairs, he took a deep breath and braced himself at the top before walking over to his… to _their_ bedroom door.  Another deep breath, and he knocked softly on the doorpost.

“Come in, Hiccup,” Astrid’s voice said softly.

Walking carefully, he entered, and found Astrid huddled on the bed, hugging her knees up against her chest. 

Giving her space, he stood over by the wall, and just looked at her, waiting for her to talk. 

“Astrid?”

“Mmmh?”

“I…I’m sorry that I got too deep into the debate.”

She took a deep, almost ironic-sounding, deep breath.  “I told you to, didn’t I?  So, it’s my fault, too.”  She sighed and patted the bed next to her.  “Come on, sit down.  I feel guilty for you just standing there.”

Hiccup cautiously moved over, and sat stiffly next to her, and she curled up next to him. 

“And I’m sorry for getting in too deep as well,” she said softly.  “I know that this is what Mr Mildew wanted, and we played right into his hands.  Forgive me?”

He took her hands in his and ran his thumb over the back of her knuckles.  “What is there to forgive?” he asked softly.  “We’re good… and I love you.”

She took another deep sigh, the tension noticeably leaving her body as she did so, and said softly, “I love you too.  And… thank you.”

They sat like that for a while in silence, Hiccup gently stroking her hands and back. 

Just as he thought about going downstairs and telling everyone that they were all right, Astrid’s breathing changed.  “Hiccup?”

“Yeah?”

“I… I was just thinking on all of this… and what was said.”  She fell silent for another minute. 

“And?” he prompted when the tension grew unbearable.

“Hiccup… I’ve… I’ve decided.”  She pulled herself free of his hands and turned to look him in the face.  “And… and I’m going to keep the baby."

* * *

 

_I'M BACK!_

_God, this chapter gave me the_ worst _writer's block_ ever. _I must have gone through a dozen edits,_ at least, _on that debate-argument, and chewing myself up on whether or not it was good enough and had enough impact to warrant her making the choice!_

_But, hey, I'm past it now, and while I can't promise speedy updates, I do have the entirety of the rest of the story outlined, with significant portions of those later arcs already drafted (me trying to evict the scene plot bunnies from my head in order to try to free up space for this chapter!)_

_Now, continuing on with my recommendations:_

_The **Burning** **Trilogy** by Viv-ntvg.  ;)_

_An interesting take on the Hiccstrid relationship, with Astrid being an organized crime boss in the canonverse Archipelago with a strong soft-spot for Hiccup.  The relationship develops wonderfully over the course of three fics, with a strong believability--nothing feels forced or out-of-character, although this version of Astrid is very brutal at first.  But that's part of her characterization, and she grows and develops very nicely, as does Hiccup._


	26. Interlude: And I Count My Sins

**Interlude: And I Count My Sins**

As Hiccup’s feet—flesh and plastic—sounded on the stairs, Snotlout looked around at the others in the room, and then at Moana, who was looking at them, concerned.  Then the Polynesian girl said quietly, “She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

Heather laughed nervously.  “Why do you say that?”

Moana gave her a flat look.  “Well, between how she just reacted—how _both_ of them reacted—plus Mr Mildew’s subject for them, which, I’d think, would be _just as personal for both of them as any of the others are for the rest of us…_ I’m going to go out on a limb and say that they’re not just dating, but sleeping together.”

More looks were shared around the room, and then Snotlout sighed.  “You’re right.  But don’t say anything, okay?  Her dad is a real prick.”

“Takes one to know one, Gary?” Heather said lightly.  He glared at her, and she met him with a level stare right back before saying, “You’ve been chasing after Astrid for years, and punched Hiccup when you found out that they were together.  You want to talk about ‘pricks’, you’re the prime example in the room.”

Snotlout grimaced… but bowed his head.  “You’re right.”

And she was.  He remembered what Ma Kosti had said to him just the other week, and those words were still rattling around in his head.  Chief among them, she’d asked him a simple question.

_“What kind of man do you_ want _to be?”_

All of his answers had been… shallow, and she’d carved them apart like she deboned a chicken—quickly, neatly, and with deep, efficient cuts.  And he’d _felt_ like that de-boned chicken when she was done—all jelly-like, with no internal support. 

_“And why should Astrid have agreed to go out with you?” Ma Kosti asked._

_Gary_ _blinked.  “Why_ shouldn’t _she, though?  I mean, I asked and all that.”_

_“And she said no.  So why did you ask again?”_

_“Well, that’s what women want, isn’t it?  They want someone to want them, to chase them?  Isn’t that why they play hard to get?  So we’ll chase them harder?”_

_Ma Kosti quirked an eyebrow.  “I’d say that you have evidence to the contrary,” she said, nodding towards the lounge where his cousin and Astrid were… together.  She kept working on the food._

_He thought about it for a moment and hazarded a guess.  “I mean… she should have agreed because… well, I’d be her man.”_

_Ma Kosti gave him a sidelong look.  “And that means… what, Gary?”_

_“Well, um… I’d take her out and give her presents and stand up for her and—”_

_A cheer came from the lounge that sounded like Astrid, and Gary paused._

_“And would you make her happy?” Ma Kosti asked._

_“Of course I would!” Gary protested._

_“How?”_

_“I mean… gifts, and dates and—”_

_“And do you know what kind of gifts and dates and things she likes?  Do you have any idea?”_

And he hadn’t.  She’d picked it apart that he wasn’t interested in _Astrid,_ the person.  He was interested in the _idea_ of Astrid, of this pretty girl that was _his._   Like how his own father had tried to make Ma Kosti into their private cook and housekeeper when he’d been a boy.

That had shaken him.  She’d been like a mom to him—more than his actual mom, really, with how busy she was with her career.  But then Ma Kosti had left after an argument with his dad—and he only ever saw her at Hiccup’s house and the Temple after that. 

During that conversation, he’d found out why she’d left: because his father had tried to make her into his possession, the great cook, working exclusively for him.  Not just the friendly neighbor who helped at the temple.  No.  _His._

The thought of that—that his Dad wanted to take away all of Ma Kosti’s cookies and cakes from the Temple, just so that he could _have_ them all to himself…

The connection had hit from there, and he’d moaned.

Ma Kosti had been merciless after that.  What kind of a man did he want to be?  Not rich or successful or famous or any of that stuff that _other people_ made you.  No.  What kind of a _man_ did he want to be? 

_“A good one,” he choked out._

_“And what is a_ good _man?” she asked._

_“I… I don’t know?”_

_“Well… would you say that your Uncle Stoick is a good man?  Or my brother?”_

_“I… yes?”_

_“What about them is_ good?”

_“Um… I… I…”_

_She reached over and patted him on the cheek.  “Think on that.”_

And he _had_ been thinking on it.

Coming back of the thoughts that had been circling in his brain for days, he said quietly, “So… while we wait for the two of them, should we keep going?”

There were nods of agreement around the table, and he and Eret got up and started to debate their topic, with Snotlout having to defend the use of animals in lab testing.  For all of that, it wasn’t that hard for him to debate; he wasn’t against a complete ban like the loonie fringe was—just strict ethics controls and moving to other options as soon as possible. 

Eret still won, though, and as Heather, Cami, and Moana were dissecting their performance, giving comments on when they’d been weak in their arguments or rebuttals, they heard footsteps on the stairs, and everyone fell quiet.

A few moments later, Hiccup and Astrid walked back into the living room, holding hands and walking closely together. 

An awkward silence ensued, as nobody seemed to have any idea of what to say… and then Snotlout spoke up. 

“Are you two okay?”

They both nodded.

Snotlout thought for a moment on what a _good_ man would say to them, and tried to smile.  “So, um, Moana knows… and we kept going through the debates.  And you said that everything’s all right… do you want to finish up yours, or restart?”

Astrid glanced at Hiccup, and the two of them seemed to communicate without words in a way that made a bit of Snotlout’s guts squirm in envy, even as he knew that this wasn’t for him.  Then she looked back and said quietly, “I thought about it, and well, since you all know, I…” She took a deep breath and said quietly, “I decided to keep the baby.”

The words hit Snotlout like a punch to the gut.  Holy crap… Hiccup was going to be a _dad?_   It… his cousin… just… what!?

For a moment, his thoughts turned red with anger, and he was seized with the impulse to get up and punch Hiccup’s face all over again; for daring to touch Astrid, much less do anything else with her.  But he pushed it away.

_“They’re in love, Gary.  Accept that.”_

And he _did._   Between the looks on their faces to the way that they were just _with_ each other, he realized that… and he realized that he wasn’t ever going to be able to be the person to make Astrid smile like that.  He wasn’t in love with her—just envious of the idea of _having_ a pretty girl like her.

And, as Ma Kosti had hammered him on the head, _good men don’t treat other people like_ things.

So, instead, he said quietly and sincerely, “Hey, Henry, Astrid?  Congrats.”

And Astrid looked at him and actually _smiled._   “Thanks, Sno… Gary.”

Cami coughed.  “Well, I guess Mr Mildew’s assignment backfired if it was supposed to make you two split up or something.”

Hiccup said dryly, “Yeah, just a bit.”

There were chuckles around the room, and Ruffnut said, “Well, then let’s keep going and don’t let him win.”

Merida grinned and said, “I second that.”

As the group of them continued with the debates, taking time-outs as they got too heated, Snotlout looked at the girls in the room, and tried to imagine himself _with_ them, rather than _having_ them.  What would it take to have Heather look at him like Astrid looked at Hiccup?  Or have Cami lean against him like Astrid was cuddling against Hiccup, or even just how Cami herself was molded against Tuffnut’s side?

And thinking on it…

He had no idea.  Part of him was crying, _Gifts!  Expensive, shiny gifts!_ but he knew that wouldn’t work.

After they finished their debates and were relaxing in the lounge, watching a film, he got up to go snag some of Ma Kosti’s cookies from the kitchen.  As he entered, Moana, who was standing by the fridge, promptly hid her hands behind her back, and looked at him with the most innocent possible expression she could manage… with a pair of lips strewn with cookie crumbs and a pair of bulging cheeks. 

Snotlout couldn’t help it and barked a laugh.  “Which ones?” he asked with a grin.

Moana mumbled something through the mouthful that might have been, _I don’t know what you’re talking about._

Snotlout waggled his eyebrows.  “Have you tried the American-style chocolate chip yet?  All chewy and chocolatety?”

Moana sheepishly pulled one hand from behind her back, revealing a trio of those very cookies clutched there.

“Ha!”  He walked over and pulled open the fridge door, and selected a cookie—one of the mini-croissant-types filled with chocolate and nuts, _rugelich,_ or something like that—and presented it to her.  “Here, have you tried this yet?”

Moana eyed it, finished chewing and swallowing her mouthful, and said, “Not yet.  Are they good?”

Snotlout presented it with a grin.  “Yep.”

She snagged it from his hand and popped it in her mouth without a question.  Her eyes closed in obvious enjoyment, and Snotlout got one of his own from the fridge.

Eyeing the Polynesian girl, he thought for a moment; he knew that she was ace, and not interested in guys—or girls—but maybe…

“Hey, can I ask you a question?” he asked, holding the cookie in hand.

She quirked an eyebrow.  “What kind of question?”

“I, I’m trying to not be such a douche, and be a better guy.  I’m not hitting on you—not that it’d do anything, I know!—but I was wondering if I could ask for some advice?”

Moana looked at him, her eyes wide in surprise, before they narrowed again.  “Advice on what, being a better guy, or flirting?”

“Either?  Both?”

“I don’t know how much use I’ll be for the second, but I can try to help with the first… I guess,” she said.  “What would you like to know?"

* * *

 

**A bit of a shorter scene, but a necessary one, I think.  Don't worry, next chapter we go back to Hiccstrid POVs.  I'm still polishing up some bits there, but I hope to have it posted in the next two weeks or so, definitely before December.**

**Thank you to everyone that wished me a warm welcome back!  It's good to be back--just that last chapter had such writer's block, not helped by some people's comments.**

**Now, as for my recommendation for the chapter, I feel like sharing some pain.  So this chapter's rec is _A Thing Of Vikings_** **by the imaginatively named _athingofvikings._   I've recommended a lot of Modern AU, but this is something different.  This fic takes the first movie and drops it, anachronisms and all, into Real Life history... where it makes one _hell_ of a splash.  Suddenly, as one reviewer that I saw put it, when the most advanced weapon on the planet is Greek Fire, a small Norse tribe has a freaking _air force._   Lots of period-appropriate violence, tender Hiccstrid fluff, Ruffnut ends up becoming the freaking _Queen of Norway!,_ Snotlout joins the Roman Empire, and Hiccup is the world-breaking genius we all know and love.  A good chunk of the cast are real life historical people from a thousand years ago, the worldbuilding is good, with solid explanations on _why_ the Berk we see in the movie is like that.  Book II just wrapped up last week, and the author is on hiatus until December for NaNoWriMo.**


	27. Chapter 24: And I Close My Eyes

**Chapter 24: And I Close My Eyes**

“Have a _good_ night, you two!” Cami teased as Astrid tried to shove her out the door.

“We, urgh, _will,_ once you get, urgh, _going!_ Cami!” Astrid said between grunts of effort as her friend held onto the doorframe, grinning madly. 

“I mean, a whole empty house to yourselves…” Cami said, waggling her eyebrows.

“Camilla Bog, if you don’t leave my house this instant, I will not be responsible for the consequences!” Astrid said, clamping down on her laughter as she peeled Cami’s fingers off of the doorframe one by one, her shoulder pushing against Cami’s sternum as Tuffnut hauled on her from behind.

“Ooh, ooh, consequences!  I love those!” Cami cheered.  “What are you going to do to me, Astrid?”  She waggled her bust at her.

Astrid looked at Tuffnut, still hauling on his girlfriend’s arm.  “I’ll kick Tuffnut in the balls so hard that you won’t get laid for a month!”

Tuffnut’s eyes went wide, even as Astrid’s tone made it clear that she wasn’t serious. 

“Nooooo…” Cami moaned mock-protestingly.  “No hurting Tuff!”

“At least not in the not-fun ways!” Tuffnut added and they all burst out laughing.

In the immediate aftermath of that laugh, Astrid abruptly shoulder-checked Cami, who let go with a surprised _whuff!_ and collapsed into Tuff out on the front step.

“Night!” Astrid said cheerfully as the two of them staggered, trying not to fall over, and slammed the door. 

She and Hiccup looked at each other and they burst into mirthful chuckles. 

“I’m half-tempted to not have sex right now,” Astrid said, between guffaws, “just to go against Cami’s expectations.”

Hiccup started to respond, and then turned bright red with laughter. 

“What is it, babe?”

Shaking helplessly, tears of laughter pouring from his eyes, he just pointed at the door.

Astrid turned to see Cami looking through the glass window port, clearly motioning for them to get on with it with _very_ crude gestures.

For a moment, she considered doing just that and giving her friend a _show,_ but Hiccup _probably_ wouldn’t appreciate that.  With a smirk, Astrid strode over to the door and smartly pulled the small curtain over the window shut.

Hiccup was in danger of passing out from laughing too hard, with his face bright red and dripping with sweat and tears, and he thudded to the floor, gasping for breath.  “Gods, is she always like this?”

Astrid grinned.  “Nope.  Sometimes, she’s worse.”

“How?!”

“Well, for starters, her shirt stayed _on_ today!”

“Oh gods…” Hiccup said, and started to laugh helplessly some more. 

She grinned and helped him up off the floor, and pulled him into a hug.  “I love you.”

Still shaking with lingering laughter, he said cheerfully, “I love you too.”  And then his hands wandered down her back, and stopped at her belly, like they had all evening since… since she’d made her decision. 

She rolled her eyes and grinned at him.  “Feeling a bit _paterfamilias?”_

He winced a little and started to take his hands away, but she caught them and put them back.  “No, no, I’m happy that they’re there.”  She looked him in the eye.  “I’m happy that you’re happy.  I’m happy that we’re going to be _family._   And that you want it too…”

He looked away slightly.  “Ast, I… I didn’t want to pressure you.  I didn’t want to make you feel pressured at all.”

She gave him a peck on the lips.  “And I appreciate that… but you retreated too far.  You were so intent on giving me complete freedom that you made it feel almost like you didn’t care.”

“But I do care… but, yeah, I screwed up there.  And I’m so, so sorry.”  He squeezed her tighter.  “I just… as much as I wanted the baby… I didn’t want you to feel pressured.  You’re living in _my_ house, wearing clothes paid for by _my_ dad, eating _my_ food… I felt like if I said I wanted you to keep it… it would be unfair.”

She nodded.  “And I get that.”  She reached up and kissed him on his cheek.  “And, gods, do I appreciate it and love you for it.”

Wrapping his arms around her, he held her close.  “And I love you too.”  His hands wandered down to her back and started to knead, and she gave a low moan and leaned into him.  “And… gods… we’re going to be parents.”

She closed her eyes as she leaned against him and said softly, “I told you about my imagination with the two of us… living together.  Can you tell me some of yours?”

He kissed the side of her head as his nimble fingers continued to work over her sore back.  “Yes…” 

“And…?” she prompted after a moment.

“Trying to get my thoughts in order, which is a little difficult, with the hot blond in my arms, you see,” he said cheerfully. 

She chuckled and ground against him slightly, feeling him stir. 

He scoffed.  “Do you want the SFW or NSFW thoughts?”

She giggled and continued to grind against him.  “Tell me the first… _demonstrate_ the second.”

“Oh?  I thought that you were thinking that you didn’t want to, not with Cami’s expectations?” he said, leaning down and licking the side of her neck.

“I’d… _oh yes there,_ I’d say ‘screw Cami…’ but… oh yes… but that’s Tuff’s job,” she gasped as Hiccup kissed and licked and nibbled at her neck and earlobe.  “I… ooooh… I know you’ve been holding back, babe.”  She arched into him as his hands slipped under the hem of her shirt.  “But I’m _yours._   I trust you… and if it goes too far, I’ve got my safeword, and I know you’ll hold to it.”

“Are you sure…?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled against the side of her neck.

“Yesss…” she said, feeling his teeth gently scrape her skin.  “Please…”  She knew what his kink was, and how he’d been holding back, even as her own marks on his skin still stood out starkly. 

His lips and tongue danced over the sensitive skin of her neck and shoulder as his fingers stroked her sides and waist, seeming to tease her as they approached some of the more sensitive spots and then danced away.

“Hiccccuuup…” she whined as he stoked the fires inside her.  She could feel herself growing aroused and wet, and he hadn’t done anything more than heavy kissing and touching her, although, somewhere along the line, he’d undone the top three buttons of her shirt, giving him access to her collarbone.

“Mmmh?” he went against the base of her neck.

“Pleeeease… gods…”

His finger brushed down the length of her groin under the waistband of her skirt and she bucked against him, but he pulled back again to her waist, and she made a whine. 

“You want this…?” he asked, sounding far too smug and in control of himself.

She nodded weakly, and whined again as his fingers ghosted over her breast and teased her nipple through the shirt.  She bucked against him again, and despite his pretensions otherwise, she _felt_ that he was aroused too, under his pants, and started to rub herself against him, but he pulled his hips back and held her in place, backing her up slightly.  Suddenly, her rear touched against the wall, and she was lightly pinned as he continued to tease her with lips and tongue on her neck and collarbone and fingers seeming to dance everywhere… her ribs, her breasts, her waist… and dipping down occasionally—far too occasionally—to her groin, which felt on _fire_.

And then, suddenly, his teeth bit down on the skin over her collarbone as his finger unerringly sought and pressed down on her clit, and it was like a bolt of lightning coursing through her from the two points of contact as he sucked down on the skin, leaving his… no… hers… no, _their_ first love bite on her, his marker on her, claiming her as she _wanted_ to be claimed.

With a small cry, she came undone in his arms, sandwiched against the wall, but he didn’t leave her any space to recover from the small orgasm.  His right fingers made figure-8 motions around the sensitive nub below as his left divested her of her shirt, unbuttoning the last few bits of it slowly, as his mouth worked down to her breast.

She gasped as his tongue teased a nipple, and then he gave her a playful nip on the side of her breast—not enough to leave even the lightest of marks, but his teeth left such heat that it was like a brand. 

“You… you aren’t… aren’t _talking…_ ” she gasped out, lacing her fingers into his hair. 

He sucked her nipple into his mouth and then released it with a pop.  “Show, don’t tell, remember?”  He gave the nipple another lick.  “Besides… mouth’s occupied.”

She moaned, and, with a flick of his fingers, her shirt fluttered to the floor—followed by his trousers, somehow.  He’d undone them at some point, not that she could pinpoint when.  As he pulled her pants down, he kissed his way back up her chest and neck and reclaimed her mouth.  Then she felt his cock at her entrance. 

Widening her legs slightly, she wrapped her arms around his wiry torso as he slid into her, and they both moaned.

“You want to know what I want to do with you…?” he whispered into her ear as he began to thrust into her, her back braced against the wall.

“Yesss… yes… tell me…” she moaned, gasping with each thrust, her skin feeling like it was on fire.  She was still exploring her own kinks, but just from this, she knew that she’d found one, possibly two—him being dominant on her, and love bites. 

“I want to bend you over and spank that tight ass of yours and leave my mark on you…”

She groaned at the thought, and how he was pressing right _there_ inside her _…_

“I want to tie you to the bed, blindfold you, and tease you with those toys until you’re just about ready to fall apart, and _keep_ you there until you _beg…_ ”

That thought, combined with what he was already doing to her, was enough to _make_ her fall apart, and she came there against the wall, shuddering and crying out his name, and _still_ he continued.

“That’ll be payback—delicious, delicious payback—for all of those months where you kept me in the dark,” he said huskily, slowing but not stopping his thrusts.  “But only if you want it.”

She nodded a bit numbly, a dazed grin on her face, and said, “Oh, gods, yes…”  She abruptly reached up, wrapped her hands around his head, and pulled him into a kiss.  “Yes, please.”  To anyone _else_ , ever, she would never trust them.  Not after the way that her father had disciplined her for so long.  But giving up control to Hiccup, the man she loved, and trusting him to give her a mindblowing experience, and knowing that he would stop the instant it went too far…?

Why weren’t they doing that _now?_

The sensation of another building orgasm in her center as he continued to thrust into her reminded her that they were already a bit occupied.

A _bit._

She released his mouth and he promptly clamped down on the side of her jaw, nibbling and sucking as she clung to him.

“What… what else?” she gasped.

He removed his mouth and said into her ear, “Well, you mentioned being interested in trying anal at some point…”

“Uh huh…” she said breathlessly, feeling the next orgasm starting to peak.

“Picture this… your second favorite position, me taking you from behind…”

“And you in my ass…?” she asked, and moaned at the image.

“Yeah… and add to that me holding a toy in one hand and fucking you with it at the same time… and if we want really push it, you blowing one of the other toys.”

The visual—and stimulation—that Hiccup’s words painted hit her, fueling the orgasm she’d felt building like throwing petrol onto a fire, and she cried out as she came again, spasming against him.

More heat spilled into her as he came with a gasping grunt and the pair of them slumped against the wall, panting. 

“I… wow,” she said, feeling the sweat dripping down from her hair.  “I… yes.  All of that.  I want all of that.”

He grinned and slowly pulled out from her.  “I’m glad… but you know that you don’t have to…”

She shook her head.  “No, I _want_ it.  And I want it with _you,_ babe.”  Still basking in the afterglow on wobbly knees, she crouched and gathered up their discarded clothing in a ball, giving happy looks at Hiccup as she did so.  For a moment, she considered going the rest of the way to her knees and licking him, but, at least at this exact moment, he was limp.  His expression was worshipful as he took in her half-nude form; the only thing left on her was her skirt and socks.  She grinned.  “I… wow.  That was good.”

He helped her back up to standing.  “It was.  Why haven’t we tried that position before?”

“I don’t know, but I want to try it again sometime,” she said cheerfully.  “How’s your leg with it?”

He glanced down at it.  “All right, but not something I want to do for an extended period of time, though.”

“Mmmmh… well, that wasn’t a quickie, though.”

“I know… but if I wanted to keep you on edge for as long as possible, it’s not the position I’d use,” he said cheerfully, and reached out to gently grasp her shoulder.  Examining the collarbone area, he said, satisfied, “Well.  That’s going to leave a mark.”

She grinned and kissed him on the cheek.  “And that’s exactly what I wanted.”  She tucked the ball of clothing under one arm.  “I’m yours, babe, and I’m glad to be marked as such.”

He blushed and grinned bashfully, and she pulled him into another kiss.  “My friend… my lover… father of my child…”  _Future husband…_ she mentally added, but adding that out loud would just kill the mood.  Instead, she just took his hands and placed them on her belly.  “Just think, babe.”

“What?”

“In here… are two parts of _us_ growing together… that will never be apart.  Ever.”

He seemed to melt, and half-slumped into her embrace.  “I love you.”

“I love you too,” she said with a happy sigh.

They cleaned themselves up—and the wall, just to keep suspicious smells down.  As they prepared for bed, with class in way-too-few hours, Astrid asked softly, “Do you want to give your dad a call and let him know that I decided?”

Hiccup shook his head as they spooned together.  “No.  We can tell him in person.  He’d like that.”

Astrid nodded.  “Sounds good.  Good night, babe,” she said, yawning, and flicked off the light. 

#

Hiccup dashed down the hall to get to his next class after lunch.  It was their second day back, he and Astrid had been sitting together in the cafeteria, and they’d taken too long to get going, and now he was cutting it close.

Then an arm reached out and pulled him down a side hall—and half-slammed him against the wall.

Hiccup blinked, a little dazed, and looked up into Gaston’s face, which was curled in cruel sneer, one of his cronies standing behind him, an ugly look on his face—and then there was his actual expression, which wasn’t much better. 

“So, _Henry,_ we didn’t finish our talk from the other day,” Gaston said cruelly.

Hiccup sighed as best he could.  “No, I think we did.”

“Then why are you still dating a girl that doesn’t _belong_ to you!?”

“Well, turns out it’s the other way ‘round.  I belong to her, you see…” Hiccup said as he tried to wriggle free, but Gaston had both strength and leverage on him, and he was having to stand on his tiptoes as Gaston hauled him upwards.

Gaston leaned in and stared him dead in the eye.  “Bullshit.  That’s not how it works!  A girl like that belongs with a guy like me!”

“Great.  Try telling _her_ that,” he said.

Gaston scowled.  “Stay away from her.”

“Again, you’re not quite getting this whole ‘I’m her boyfriend’ thing,” Hiccup sassed.  “But if you want some help with the concept, I have a nice picturebook for you.  You just have to promise me you won’t drag it on the ground as you walk, though.”

Gaston’s face was a journey as he unraveled Hiccup’s statement.  Then he wound his fist up and back.

“Wait, wait, you wouldn’t hit a guy with glasses—Oof!” Gaston slugged Hiccup in the gut—just as a voice called out, “Hey!  What’s going on here?”

Hiccup looked up at the voice to see one of the athletic instructors—Surayo—standing there, looking displeased.  Gaston’s crony was standing back, trying to both cover Gaston and look like he wasn’t involved and succeeding at neither.

Gaston promptly dropped Hiccup, who barely managed to keep himself from hitting the floor, and said, “Nothing.  Just a little talk about propriety.”

“Four syllables?” Hiccup muttered.  “Gaston, you didn’t need to break out the fancy vocabulary just for me!”

Gaston growled and swung at Hiccup—only to get blocked by Surayo, who, Hiccup suddenly remembered, also was one of the martial arts club instructors, along with Astrid’s Uncle Finn.

He watched in enjoyment as Surayo effortlessly put Gaston into a joint lock and said, “All right, that’s enough there.  To the dean.  Haddock, off to class.”

“But he—”

“Mr LeGurme, you’re almost two meters tall, outweigh Mr Haddock by nearly a factor of two, and have martial arts training he doesn’t.  And you just tried to throw a punch at him.  You’re coming with me.  Haddock, _to class._ ”

Hiccup didn’t need to be told twice and bolted, barely arriving in his class in time.  He took his seat next to Fishlegs on shaky legs.  As he unpacked his bag, he noted that his heart was still hammering—in time with the new knot on the back of his head and the punch to his gut—when the teacher entered the room.

#

Astrid emerged from the bathroom in her new bathrobe, feeling refreshed and clean; she’d gotten in a workout after class, and, while showering _without_ Hiccup felt like there was something missing, turning up all of the showerheads to max pressure and standing in the middle of them had been _exquisite._

Voices came from downstairs—Hiccup and Stoick.  Her… future father-in-law must have gotten home when she was in the shower.  Then she listened closer, and her eyes widened.  They sounded like they were arguing.

Cocking her head, she listened for a moment from the top of the stairs.

“Dad, it’s _fine!_ ”

“Son, you _need_ to be more careful!”

“What am I supposed to do, walk around school in full plate armor?  I got ambushed!”

“And then you mouthed off to them while they had you up against the wall!”

“What was I supposed to do?  Sit there and take the beating?”

“They might not have _given_ you a beating if you hadn’t sassed them!”

Astrid frowned.  She disagreed with that point, but she was more concerned with the argument; there was a note of frustration in Hiccup’s voice that she wasn’t used to, and she considered joining in the conversation as they continued.

“I’m sorry, but they _grabbed me and slammed me against a wall._   I don’t think that’s a setup for a happy ending there, Dad!”

“From what you told me, they were trying to scare you off.  All you had to do was nod, let them think they won, and move on!”

“Right, like _that_ wouldn’t come back and bite me later!  Can you imagine Gaston’s reaction? ‘Hey, Haddock, you said you’d give up!’ _Wham_!”

“And sassing them saves you from a beating _how?”_

Astrid listened, appalled and somewhat worried, as the two of them went round and round three more times on the same subject, neither one of them giving any ground.  She swallowed as Hiccup got more and more frustrated, and then said, “You know what, Dad?  Sure.  I fucked up, and I’m sure I’ll pay for it more later.  But, hey, at least I got you some _good_ news!”  His footsteps moved towards the stairs and Hiccup’s voice, sounding closer, said tartly, “Astrid decided to keep the baby.  Congrats, _grandpa_.”

With that, he went to the stairs, Stoick sputtering behind him, and Astrid retreated to the bedroom as his angry footsteps climbed towards her. 

She didn’t give any hint that she’d overheard their argument as she and Hiccup went to bed an hour or so later, but he was tense, with his shoulders held tight and rigid, and he only relaxed a little as they spooned together. 

“You okay?” she asked quietly, twisting around to face him.

He shook his head.  “Dad and I…”

“I heard,” she said quietly.  “You okay?”

“I just… he _never_ listens.  I never do the right thing.  I’m never _good_ enough.”

She hugged him closer.  “You’re good enough for me.  And he loves you.  He just doesn’t understand you.”

“I… maybe.  Come on.  Let’s sleep,” he said, and quieted down. 

Astrid turned back around, sighed in his arms, and, stretching awkwardly, reached behind herself to stroke his cheek.  “It’s okay.”

He sighed.  “I just… no matter what I do, it’s not good enough.”

Astrid snorted.  “You did _me,_ and he seems pretty happy with that.”

Hiccup choked into her hair.  “You did _not_ just go there.”

She twisted a bit in his arms and gave him a kiss on the cheek.  “I did.  But, no, Hiccup, I heard, and he was worried that you might have gotten hurt!”

He made a scowling noise.  “Yeah, but it’s always the same—”

She kissed him and then broke it.  “Hiccup.  I heard you two go round and round.  He’s worried.  It’s okay.”

“I… alright.”

“Let’s go to sleep, love,” she said, and turned back around and snuggled into his arms.  “Tomorrow will be better.”

As they drifted off, she found herself pondering.  She was definitely going to have to talk to Ma Kosti and find out how these two talked—or didn’t talk—with each other.  And while she was a bit upset with Hiccup for the way that he’d used her decision to shut his father down—and not giving her the chance to tell Stoick together—she could tell that confronting him on that right now would make him retreat inwards.

But for a first look at what he’d told her about before—the usual dynamic between him and his father—she couldn’t say that she was happy.

She just wanted them all to be happy…

#

Hiccup was in the kitchen prepping breakfast and packing their lunches the next morning when his father entered. 

For a moment, the pair of them met each other’s eyes, and then he looked away.  “Hey, Dad,” he said diffidently. 

“Morning, son,” Stoick said.

“There’s coffee,” Hiccup said, and they continued to exchange their usual empty pleasantries, just like they had before Astrid had come, but they were more… _brittle_ than normal.

Then Stoick cleared his throat.  “So… while I would have preferred to have found out in a different way… you were not joking when you said last night that Astrid had come to a decision?”

Hiccup shook his head as he deftly assembled Astrid’s lunch.  “You can ask her yourself when she comes down if you don’t believe me, but, yes, she decided.”

There was a pause as Stoick drank a mouthful of his coffee.  “Well then.  I… uh… I made some calls last night.  Now that she’s… decided, we can petition the court for ‘joint’ custody of both mother and fetus, as we discussed before, in order to protect the fetus from her father.”

Hiccup nodded as he wrapped up Astrid’s lettuce, tomato, cheese, onion and beef on rye and put it in the lunchbag.  “What do you need us to do?”

“I’m getting the paperwork written up and couriered over.  Should be here by this afternoon, tomorrow at the latest.  I’ll need to go over it with both of you and you’ll need to sign it, and we can start the formal petition as soon as that’s done.”

“Got it.”  Hiccup started to assemble his own sandwich, not looking at his father.

Silence reigned for another few moments, and then Stoick said, “Hiccup.”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Please… promise me you’ll be careful.  I worry about you.  About _both_ of you.”

Hiccup took a deep breath and put his own sandwich in the bag next to Astrid’s.  “I promise.  And it’ll settle down as they get used to us being together.”

“Do they know that she’s…?”

Hiccup shook his head.  “No, they don’t.  Can’t say I’m looking forward to _that_ shitstorm breaking loose, but, hey…”  He smiled and let out a happy sigh.  “She’s worth it.”

There was silence for another moment, and then Stoick said hesitantly, “Son, I have something for you.”

“What?”

Stoick looked around for a moment, clearly making sure that they had privacy, and picked up his briefcase.  Putting it on the table, he opened it… and pulled out a small jewelry box.

Hiccup felt his eyes go wide.

“Is that…?”

Stoick held out the box and put it in Hiccup’s hands.  “This was your mother’s engagement ring.  It just needs to get resized.  Do… do you want to use it?”

Hiccup opened the box with shaking hands, and looked inside, to see a gold band, set with emeralds and small diamonds.

Closing it again, his hands still shaking, he nodded, too choked up for words. 

Then Astrid’s footsteps sounded on the stairs, and they both lurched back into action, Stoick stowing the box back into his briefcase, Hiccup darting over to the stovetop and the small pot of simmering soup there. 

Astrid came into the kitchen a moment later and ostentatiously sniffed the air.  “Hungry…” she intoned dramatically. 

Hiccup grinned and cleared his throat of the earlier lump from seeing the ring.  “Tea and toast are ready for you, milady.”

She beamed at him and went to assemble breakfast.  As she did so, Hiccup met his father’s eyes. 

He clearly approved of and adored Astrid… and a thought occurred to Hiccup, even as he tried to beat it down and ignore it.

Pity that she was the only part of his life that Stoick approved of.  She was going to be Mrs Astrid Haddock, mother of the next generation of Haddocks…

But he wondered if his father even cared about Astrid Hofferson, ‘Hiccup’ Haddock’s kinky and driven girlfriend, or if it was just because she was attached to ‘Henry’ Haddock’s life.

Because Brigadier Stoick Haddock really didn’t understand _Hiccup_ Haddock at all.

 

<<<>>>

_My rec for this chapter is the wonderfully fluffy and smutty_ The Elements of Surprise, _by Ecoutez.  Hiccstrid, canonverse, set as a continuation of their prior fic_ Simple Gifts. _I have little to say beyond saying that I am in awe at their command of sensuality and imagery, and love how they write Hiccstrid's slow, intimate exploration, escalation... and eventual consummation._

 


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